Learning to Live
by steph2009
Summary: It has been two years since Clarissa Fray vanished from both the Shadowhunter world and mundane. Jace Wayland, the Lightwoods, Luke, Jocelyn, Simon, and Magnus Bane never stopped searching. She's about to resurface, but not the way any of them were expecting.
1. Not Okay

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instrument Series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

**Summary:** It has been two years since Clarissa Fray vanished from both the Shadowhunter world and mundane. Jace Wayland, the Lightwoods, Luke, Jocelyn, Simon, and Magnus Bane never stopped searching. She's about to resurface, but not the way any of them were expecting.

Chapter 1

_Not Okay_

Isabelle Lightwood leaned against the doorframe of her adoptive brother's room. Jace Wayland sat on his bed; his hands wrapped around a picture frame. His head was bowed. His usually confident shoulders were slumped. He was a man burning and he had been for two years.

"Jace," she spoke. He looked up. His golden eyes focused on her. "Dinner's ready." He cast her a wary look. She chuckled. "I didn't cook it. We ordered out." The banter over dinner always reminded her of better days. Days when Clarissa Fray stood just a few inches from them, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Eyes filled with pain as she listened to Jace cut her down. Her speedy retreat from the room, down the stairs, and out of their world.

Isabelle shook her head to dispel those memories. She knew Clarissa Fray. She wouldn't just leave the Shadowhunter world like that. She would stay and be stubborn enough to prove Jace wrong. That much was proven when Magnus Bane recounted the last time he had seen her.

_"The last time I saw her, she had just come back from Wayland Manor." Jace, who had been listening with rapt attention, sat back and looked at the warlock strangely. His golden eyes wide with curiosity and worry. They had found the rubble that had once been Wayland Manor. "I don't know how she found your old home…but in her hands she held the book coveted by all warlocks and magical dabbling Shadowhunters. The White Book." He went into Clary's first visit to Ragnor Fell's house and how he had been there to greet her. He told them of who she had been with. "Before she disappeared," Magnus sighed, "Clary handed me the key to saving her mother." _

Isabelle ran a hand through her hair as she walked down the hallway. There had been many other revelations over the years. For instance, they now knew that the Sebastian they had known was an imposter. The real Sebastian's belongings and body had been found. Isabelle shuddered. They had all lived under the same roof as him; Clary had went somewhere with him. Clary had _trusted _him. After her disappearance, he was their first suspect-only no one could find him. Like Clary, he seemed to have vanished. The implications brought chills to Isabelle's arms.

_'I should have followed her out that night…'_ Isabelle thought as she walked into the kitchen. _'I should have chased her outside and stayed with her…but I chose Jace over her. A girl hopelessly lost in Idris-not to mention the Shadowhunter world-without someone to act as her guide. She must have felt so abandoned by us.' _Isabelle felt the familiar sting of tears building in her eyes. The guilt would never fully leave her, just as she suspected it wouldn't leave Jace or Alec either. None of them had done anything to help her. They had simply shot her down and berated her for coming to Idris. She had seen Sebastian chase after her that night. The night, she now knew, they found Magnus. Then, Clary went missing only a day after.

Isabelle stared down at the take out Chinese and filled her plate slowly. She glanced across the table at her brother. He met her eyes and cracked a small half smile.

"It's not your fault," he told her. Isabelle's throat tightened with a vengeance. She felt her lower lip start to wobble. Alec abandoned his food and moved across the table as the first few tears slipped from his sister's eyes. He gathered her in his arms and simply held her. She latched her arms around him. He fought the wince at the pain of her tight hold. He ran a hand through her long black hair as she cried.

_'It's good,'_ he thought, glancing toward the door, _'that Jace isn't in here yet…'_ His parabatai had become a shell of his former self. His brother's pain had become his own. At first, he had been irrationally angry with Clary, certain she would show up again in a few weeks once she was certain she had caused them enough pain and worry. Those weeks turned to months. His anger had faded into a reluctant worry. He had always aided them in looking for her, if only to humor Jace and Isabelle; but as the months wore on, he became just as invested as the rest of them. The girl had found a way inside of his heart slowly. The months shifted into years. Alec watched as his brother and sister refused to give up; even though his hope of finding her alive had faded into a dull shimmer, he still helped them search.

Clarissa's face flashed behind his eyelid. Her brilliant green eyes sparked in anger as she stared him down that night in the Institute.

Alec sighed and closed his eyes. He rested his head on top of his sister's.

Her eyes filled with betrayal and pain as she stared at Jace as he spoke the words Alec feared, deep inside, would break her. Her turning on her heel and retreating from the room. No one followed her.

He swallowed. There were thousands of times he wished he could rewind time and redo that night. Would anything have changed had he been the one to chase after her instead of Sebastian? He could imagine the crazy look she would have given him for following her. She would have expected anyone but him.

Alec was pulled from his thoughts by his sister's gentle pushing on his chest. He dropped his arms from around her and stepped back. He looked into her blood shot brown eyes. He didn't dare ask if she was okay because he knew the answer. He returned to his seat and his plate. Isabelle sat down at her own plate and began timidly eating.

"Do you think we'll ever find her?" Isabelle asked after a few minutes. Alec set his glass down on the table and looked to his sister. Her brown eyes were staring expectantly at him. He sighed and glanced toward Jace's bedroom.

"We have too…" Alec muttered. Jace chose that moment to walk through the door.

"Started without me, huh?" He asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. Alec snorted.

"Well, you take so long making certain every hair is perfect…we'd starve waiting on you," Alec shot back. Jace chuckled.

"This much perfection is natural, Alec," Jace returned. Alec rolled his eyes. Isabelle gave a forced smile and met her brother's eyes. There was a sadness underneath Alec's faked annoyance. They both knew how fake Jace's behavior was now. They had seen him cry, scream, and break. He couldn't hide his pain, not from them; but he wouldn't be Jace if he didn't try. So, they played along. If only to distract him for a few hours.

X

Jace stared down at the picture he had taken from_ her _bedroom. It was the most recent one he could find. She stood beside her mother in a white sundress with small, hollow black diamonds around the skirt's hem. Her red curls were down and falling around her. A heart pendant hung from a long chain at her chest. She was smiling. Her green eyes were free of pain and filled with innocence. A violent sob threatened to escape from his throat. He tightened his grip around the frame.

_'Two years…'_ He thought with a pained shiver. He hadn't felt whole since the moment she left. At first, he had simply believed she had heeded his lie and left, but then…Jocelyn came to Idris…hunting her daughter. He could still remember the panic that had rushed up inside of him. It had taken everything in him to remain seated and to listen to the rest of the story.

Clary had given Magnus the White Book. Magnus had went back to New York to wake Jocelyn up. Somewhere in that time, Clary had disappeared. '_And so,'_ Jace thought, curling his hands tighter around the protesting frame, _'had Sebastian.'_

_It's possible,'_ he thought simply to reassure himself to Sebastian didn't have her, _'that she's hiding away in the mundane world.' _Jace swallowed, _'but a small part of me really thought she wouldn't have taken those words to heart. She's just stubborn enough to try and prove me wrong.' _He looked into her green eyes and sighed. _'I would take her stubbornness if it meant I had her here with me now…'_ He moved a hand from the picture frame. His palm was red from the pressure, but he didn't care. He ran a thumb over Clary's face.


	2. The High Warlock of Brooklyn

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instrument series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 2

_The High Warlock of Brooklyn_

Adele Verona sat in the chair beside the bed and ran the paddle brush through her charge's long red curls. She gently brushed away the tangles and set her hair to the left of her neck. She sat back and looked at the beautiful redhead that she owed so much too. If it weren't for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, Adele would believe her dead. It was a genuine fear. She shuddered as she recalled the amount of healing runes Isaac had drawn onto her skin. To have that many…the injuries must have been numerous and severe.

"Let's get you changed out of those rumpled clothes, yeah?" She asked her to distract herself. At first, changing her had been a struggle. Now, it came as second nature. She took off the old blue T-shirt-being mindful of the IV attached to her arm-and sleep plants; easily, she changed her into a pair of grey stretchy sleep pants and a white, baggy T-shirt. At first, she had chosen this attire out of necessity. It was all she had in that size. Then, it became wanting her to be comfortable. She gathered the girl's hair into her hands and pulled it out from underneath the T-shirt. "I'm going to start your exercises now…" She talked to her as she lifted up one foot. She pushed it toward the sleeping girl's chest and repeated that motion thirty times. Like with the hair brushing, Adele did this every day. It was important, she knew, to help her keep muscle mass. It would be easier for her when she did awake.

What Adele didn't know was that the girl could hear, feel, and taste everything. She could feel the muscle in her legs and arms tightening and relaxing with every exercise. She could feel the tugging of her hair as Adele brushed the tangles out; she could feel the soft cotton of the clothes she had dressed her in and the cold of the fluids being pumped into her through the IV; but she couldn't say thank you. She couldn't even move. There were many times over the past two years that she had tried to move anything. A twitch of her eyebrow, a twitch of her big toe, but no matter how much her brain sent the signals nothing moved.

_'Thank you for taking care of me all this time,_' she thought toward Adele who was steadily chatting away about her life as she moved each limb. _'Thank you for keeping me sane.'_

It was when she was left alone that she thought of them. The people from her life before the coma. It had been two years since she had seen them. Were they still thinking of her, searching for her? Maybe they had given up. But, no, she knew they hadn't. Her mother, at least, would never give up searching.

Her face flashed suddenly before her closed lids. She saw her mother worn and tired, staring down into a black coffee cup. Sitting beside her was the man that she long claimed as her father. His hand wrapped around her free one, but they weren't smiling or even laughing as they had in her life. He simply flicked solemnly through the newspaper while her mother stared down into her coffee. Though she knew it wasn't real-there was no way she could possibly be looking in on their lives, it still hurt her.

"Oh…" She heard Adele suddenly coo. There was a sweep of soft fabric across her cheeks. "Shhh. Don't cry, little Strawberry." Since they had no way of knowing her name, both siblings called her by nickname. Isaac called her Angel. She liked Adele's nickname for her more; Angel just made her feel strange. "Isaac said this lead might be our lucky break. The High Warlock of Brooklyn," her heart skipped a beat, "will surely know how to wake you up. I mean you don't reach that kind of position and not know a lot of things, right?"

_'Magnus!' _

* * *

Magnus Bane looked up from the White Book as he registered the buzzing of his front door. He waved his hand as he stood from the comfortable, red armchair. The White Book returned to its hiding place. He walked over to his door and pressed the button.

"Who is it?" He demanded.

"My name is Isaac Verona. Are you Magnus Bane?" Magnus rolled his cat like eyes and sighed.

"Yes," he answered impatiently.

"I found a girl two years ago," Magnus blinked, wondering what this girl had to do with it, "and she hasn't opened her eyes once." Isaac had his interest now. Clearly, her sleep was not natural. True, he had heard that when mundanes were injured their body found ways to heal them by putting them in a deep sleep-a coma. Of course, this girl could have been injured so severely; yet for this man to be come to him suggested otherwise. "I was told that you may know a way to revive her." And there it was. Isaac clearly believed that the cause of such a sleep was otherworldly. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Come on up then, Mr. Verona," Magnus said. He didn't allow his hopes to go up. In the first year, he had taken so many calls about girls, injuries, and memory loss that he had lost count. Each time he had hoped the girl was Clary and each time he had been let down. He had even tried locator spells, but nothing ever happened. That could mean three things: 1) she didn't want to be found, 2) she was dead, or 3) someone or something was blocking him. The third could technically route back to number one. He prayed that option one was not the case. If he somehow found her and she didn't want to be a part of their world anymore, he didn't think Jace Herondale-Lightwood-Wayland (whatever he went by now) could walk away from her. Not again. Isabelle Lightwood, too, would fight tooth and nail to keep her in their world. Alec…now, his love was a mystery. Magnus could never tell just what Alec felt toward Clary.

And if she was dead…well. It would destroy many people-Jace, Jocelyn….and in extension to Jace, Alec and Isabelle. Option two was the one that Magnus both feared and expected. While the others admirably believed that she was that she was still out there somewhere, Magnus had his suspicions. Clary wouldn't let the people she loved go two years believing her dead. If she was simply being held out there somewhere, he knew that she would fight tooth and nail to return to them. And, he knew, that she would have managed to find a way by now. If she just didn't want to be a part of their world, she wouldn't shut out Simon and her parents. No, as horrible as it felt to him, the young girl he had known since she was two was probably dead.

A quick knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. He opened it easily and tried not to laugh at the complete and utter shock that washed over the face of Isaac Verona. Magnus looked down at what he was wearing. In all honestly, he had toned it down today. He wore a simple pair of black pants and a bright green, zebra print button up shirt.

The moment the man stepped over the threshold, Magnus noticed a few things about him. He was Shadowhunter and the dark rings underneath his eyes said that he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in years. Possibly since finding the girl two years ago.

"You say she hasn't opened her eyes in two years?" He questioned by way of greeting. Isaac nodded. "Can you tell me how this happened?" Isaac ran a hand through his shoulder length black hair and sighed.

"She was bleeding heavily when she stumbled upon me; I had gotten into a battle with demons. I was dying from the poison; she healed me with two runes. An iratze and another one that I didn't recognize. It…purged the demons' poisons from my body…" Magnus glanced up at him quickly. No rune existed that could purge demon poison from the body. _'Unless…you know the language of the angels…'_ He thought slowly. _'Only one woman-child I know of could do that. Clarissa Fray._' He refused the emotion that was bubbling up within him. He wouldn't hope. "Then she passed out on me. I tried to heal her with iratzes…but she wouldn't wake up. I lifted her into my arms-thinking she would wake up soon-and followed her blood trail. There I found the man she had been battling-dead, face down in the clearing-with this in his hand," he pulled a syringe out of his pocket. "I think he was going to use this in case he got severely injured. It would let his body recover while he slept, but she somehow got injected with it. She's so much smaller than him…it wouldn't surprise me if the amount overdosed her and that's why she hasn't woken up." Magnus nodded. Suddenly, the small syringe lit up blue. Isaac stood in silence as he waited for the warlock to assess the syringe. After a minute, the syringe returned to its normal color and the warlock turning his cat like eyes to him.

"I've made this cure before…" he said. Isaac's dark green eyes lit up. Immediately, he smiled. Magnus smiled slightly in return. "It shouldn't be too hard to make again." He paused. "I just ask that I be the one to give it to her. To make sure nothing goes wrong." Isaac nodded.

* * *

Simon curled deeper underneath the covers. The date flickered at him on the clock. His throat tightened; he swallowed back the pain and attempted to beat back the tears. This day was always the hardest for everyone involved. He had to meet Jocelyn and the others for a solemn gathering to celebrate Clary. She would have turned eighteen today. Maybe somewhere out there, she is.

He tried so hard to maintain the positive outlook that Isabelle, Jace, and Alec had, but he couldn't stop thinking of how afraid she must be. How alone she must feel. What if she was crying out for him? Crying out for Jace to save her? Waiting for them? He lost his composure, turned his face into his pillow, and cried.

His heart was bleeding for his best friend and first love. The only thing that had kept him holding on to hope, holding on period had been Isabelle.

_"What?" He whispered as he processed what she had just told him. Clary, his best friend, was missing. Had gone missing while he sat in a jail cell. His only thought during that time was that she was safe in the mundane world. She was safe away from the Clave. Only to find out that all of those thoughts had been wrong when Jace freed him. Isabelle touched his cheek softly. It was in that moment that he realized he had started to cry. _

_ "Simon…" Isabelle muttered sadly. He felt her arms wrap around his back. Her wrists locked together. His legs gave up supporting him. He fell. Isabelle fell with him. Her arms never leaving him. She rocked him back and forth. _

_ He felt water hitting his shoulder and he knew that she was crying too. _

_X_

_ "Simon?" She called softly as she stepped into his bedroom. He sat huddled in the corner of the room. The dark circles underneath his eyes and the sickly pallor to his skin told her of his state. She knew the signs when a vampire went without feeding; he knew that, yet he couldn't force himself to drink when Clary was gone. "Simon…" Isabelle breathed. His brown eyes flicked up from his arms to see her kneeling in front of him. "You can't do this to yourself. Clary wouldn't want-"_

_ "She's not here, is she?" He snapped. His voice dry and hoarse from neglecting himself. Isabelle's jaw twitched. Suddenly, she struck him across the face. His head snapped to the side. _

_ "You listen to me, Simon Lewis, you __**WILL NOT**__ waste away like this. Clary deserves to have her best friend to come home too." He looked away from her. She grabbed his chin and forced his eyes back to hers. "__**And she will come home**__. Don't you dare think for a moment she is gone because then you are truly doing her a disservice." He lowered his eyes from hers._

"_I don't think I can stand up…" He admitted pathetically. He saw her body move away from him. He thought that she left until he heard the swish of the refrigerator door open. A second later the smell of blood filled the room. His stomach rolled painfully. A small whimper broke from his lips. Isabelle returned to him quickly. She extended the glass to him. _

"_I'm not going anywhere," she reassured his earlier worry. "Someone has to make sure your dumb ass doesn't do this again." _

He hung onto the memory of her promise and her fiery protectiveness. Knowing that she would be by later gave him the strength to climb out of bed. After all, he didn't want to be drug out of bed by his feet again.

* * *

Magnus followed Isaac into his sister's apartment. The place was beautifully designed. A glass coffee table sat in the middle of the living room floor; it was surrounded by a red couch and two red armchairs. There was no fireplace or television. Instead, there was a long bookshelf. It wasn't just filled with books however; there was a vase filled with roses and a small angel knickknack. It looked most like a mundane home. He followed Isaac through the living room and down the hall. The walls of the hallway were free of pictures or paintings, but he could feel the warmth emitting from the apartment. This apartment was a place someone loved and took care of. Isaac didn't speak as he led him to a door at the end of the hall. It was open wide. Isaac let Magnus go in first. Magnus' eyes first focused on the woman who sat up beside the bed. Like the man who stood next to him, she had dark black hair-but her eyes were the most interesting shade of blue and grey mixed.

"You must be the High Warlock of Brooklyn," she stood from the chair and smoothed down the light blue summer dress she wore.

"I am," Magnus confirmed. He saw the same hope in her eyes that he had seen in Isaac's.

"I'm Adele. Thank you for coming," she said honestly. She stepped aside from the bed and rested her hand on the nightstand. "This is our little Strawberry." Magnus' eyes flicked to the girl the moment Adele moved away. His breathe froze in his lungs.

"Clarissa…" He breathed. His shock held him immobile. He couldn't take a step toward the bed. The girl that he had thought was dead laid in front of him; the girl that everyone was searching for lay in front of him. Adele stepped forward worriedly.

"Sir?" She called, not knowing his name. "Are you alright?" Isaac however had a different ideal and spoke over his sister.

"You know her?" Isaac asked. Magnus didn't look away from Clary; he simply nodded. Slowly, his shock melted into dumbfounded relief. The years he had spent blaming himself for not seeing her back to city seemed to wash away as he looked into her sleeping face.

"We've been searching for her…non-stop for two years…" He breathed. He shook his head in disbelief. "All this time…she was right here in Brooklyn." He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He didn't look over but the hand clearly belonged to Adele.

"You've found her now," Adele said softly. "And you're probably going to be the first person she sees when she opens those beautiful eyes." She squeezed his shoulder gently and let her hand fall back from him. Magnus smiled softly, but his mind betrayed his seeming enthusiasm.

It was as he was reaching into his pocket for the bottle that his catlike eyes locked on the contraption on her arm. The tubing ran up to the bag just above her bed. His eyes narrowed.

"What is that?" He asked. He had seen the IV attached to Jocelyn in the hospital, but this certainly wasn't a hospital. It was a little apartment on the upside of Brooklyn. Adele followed his gaze and smiled softly.

"It's just fluids to keep her from dehydrating. I've been giving her broth over the years, but it's not enough nutrients. So, IV." He looked over at her suspiciously. Adele rolled her eyes and shifted onto her left foot. Her hand came up to her hip. He recognized it as the international "annoyed woman" sign. "I'm a nurse at the local hospital. I know what I'm doing."

'_This woman has been taking care of her for two years,'_ a voice reminded him, _'Do you really think she would have spent this much time on her if she wanted her dead?' _The voice eerily sounded like his love. A small smile ticked onto his lips for a moment before he remembered the annoyed woman beside him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. It tasted foreign on his lips, but even he could realize when he was wrong. He turned his attention back to Clary and tried not to think of everyone that should be here as he pulled the plug from the bottle. He stepped forward and put his thumb and forefinger on her chin. He pulled her lips apart gently and poured the substance into her mouth. He reached down to her throat, prepared to message the concoction down, when she swallowed. He stepped away from her slowly. After a few minutes, she began to move.

* * *

(A/N: Thank you guys for the follows, reviews, and favorites! Anyways, I would have this chapter posted Sunday, but I spent my entire day in the hospital. Good thing too (both for my health and the story), because it made me realize I had some holes here. For instance, if she had spent two years in a vegetative state, she would need more than just a little bit of water and broth.)


	3. Awaken

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instrument series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 3

_Awaken_

The solemnity in the room was broken only by the home video playing on the television. Jocelyn stared fixatedly on the moving image of her daughter at eleven. She was balanced on Luke's shoulders reaching for an apple out of his apple tree. She squealed as she almost fell off of Luke's shoulders. Her hands locked onto the thick branch a few inches away from her. Luke stayed where he was and chuckled.

_"Just let go, Clary. I've got you," _Luke promised. Jocelyn's heart tugged painfully as she looked over at the man she had finally confessed to loving. His engagement ring sat on her finger beautifully. She tightened her hand around his as his hands started to shake. She knew what he was thinking.

_'I wasn't there for her…in the moment she needed me the most…'_ It was a thought that was more than likely echoed by everyone in the room. Jocelyn tore her eyes away from her solemn fiancé and instantly found the tense figure of Jace Herondale.

_'He's so clearly a Herondale,_' she thought as she took in his jaw which was clenched so tightly she wouldn't be surprised to hear breaking teeth. _'He has Stephen's jaw, eye shape, and lip shape…' _As if feeling her eyes on him, he looked away from the screen. His golden eyes met hers. The torment there was more pronounced than it had been when they had last met. It was so clear to her that he loved her daughter. _'If she comes back, I promise I won't stand in their way…just let her come back…'_ Jocelyn prayed as tears built up quickly in her eyes again. For a moment, her mind drifted into fantasy.

_"Mom!" She hears her daughter whine in embarrassment. "You said you wouldn't do this!" Her daughter blushes brilliantly. Clary's green eyes lock on Jace's smirking face._

"_You were so adorable!" Isabelle's coo takes her daughter's attention away from Jace. Alec simply chuckles beside his sister. Clary glares at them; her blush spreading despite the annoyance in her gaze. Simon slips the remote out from underneath Jocelyn's hand. Clary spots the movement. She starts toward Simon. She grabs for the remote. He pulls it farther away from her. When her hand comes close to closing around it, he throws it to Luke. Clary turns on him. Her shoulder length curls fly around her face as she spins on him. Luke looks down at the remote and then at the television. He shrugs and extends the remote to her. _

_ "Ah! Luke!" Simon complains. Luke smiles, not the least bit sheepish. _

_ "Sorry," he says unconvincingly. Clary smiles triumphantly at Simon; the remote clenched tightly in her hand. _

_ "Thank you, Luke," Clary says softly. Jocelyn watches as his heart practically melts. His blue eyes soften. _

_ "Sucker…" Simon mutters. Luke throws a pillow at him. The others laugh at their antics as Clary pulls the disk out of the DVD player. Clary snaps the DVD case closed with a nod and walks over to Jace; she sits down beside him. He doesn't bother to hide his amusement at her. He chuckles quietly as he throws his arm around her shoulder. He whispers something into her ear that the others can't hear, but it's clearly something embarrassing to her. Despite her embarrassment, there is a gentle smile on her lips; she elbows him in the stomach. He smiles and presses a kiss to the side of her head. She snuggles into his side with a small, content smile. _

Luke looked over at the woman he loves. He can tell that she's off in her own world, a world where Clary is with them. She went there often just to stay sane, but when she came out…the fallout always broke his heart.

_Tears started to fall from her eyes rapidly. He could see that she was coming out of her fantasy world. He wrapped his arms around her and waited for the fall. Awareness filled her eyes. Jocelyn crumbled to the ground; faithfully, he followed her descent. _

_ "It's so unfair!" She cried. "The only thing that kept me sane in that damn sleep was the memories of you and her! Thoughts that she was safe, far away from her father. I wake up, thinking I can finally stop living off of those memories, only to find her gone!" She wailed. An animalistic shriek escaped Jocelyn's lips. Her fist struck his chest hard. He clenched his jaw to keep his shout of pain quiet. He would take the pain; he deserved it. He should have been there. He should have stayed by her side after dropping her off at his sister's. He held Jocelyn tighter as she fell apart. He rocked back and forth in an attempt to soothe himself and her. He lost the battle with his tears. _

Luke bolted to his feet, surprising everyone but the far away Jocelyn. They all turn their attention away from the television and onto him.

"You guys want a drink?" He asked; his eyes instantly flickered to Simon, but the young vampire's eyes are locked on Jocelyn. There is a knowing, sad look in his brown eyes. Luke forced his eyes away and back to the others on the couch. Isabelle's brown eyes only flickered to her boyfriend for a moment.

"Sure, I'll have a Coke," Isabelle said. He nodded. Alec and Simon gave their requests. Luke looked expectantly toward Jace, but his eyes had returned to the screen. Luke looked toward it too.

The scene had changed. Clary stood in her favorite dress. A white sundress with small, hollow black diamonds. Her red hair was free from its usual messy bun; it fell down her shoulders in small red waterfalls. A simple silver chain with a black heart pendant hung around her neck. The pendant dangled at the middle of her chest. Three-inch black heels hugged her feet. It was the one day she had abandon her baggy T-shirts and jeans. They had been going out to dinner for Jocelyn's birthday. Clary was standing in the middle of the living room, fiddling with the small, black, bead bracelet on her arm.

_"You don't think this is too much?"_ She asked him. Her green eyes looked up at him from underneath dark, dark red eyelashes; they had been begging him for the truth. He heard his own voice, filled with tender amusement.

_"It's not too much, beautiful girl."_ Clary's cheeks turned red. She mumbled something he couldn't hear and turned her head away. The front door opened. Clary looked back toward the door and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. A blinding smile spread over her face just before he directed the camera away.

_"Oh my God!"_ Jocelyn gasped as she brought her hand to the center of her chest. She smiled widely at her daughter. _"You're beautiful!" _Luke recalled that he had agreed. Both women had been beautiful to him that day. It didn't matter that Jocelyn had still been in her paint-covered overalls and boots; it hadn't mattered that her hair was splattered with yellow and pink paint or that there was a blue smudge on her cheek; Jocelyn was always beautiful to him.

"Just get him a Coke too…" Isabelle's voice broke Luke away from the screen and his thoughts. He nodded curtly. His heart had wedged itself in his throat. He turned and walked to the kitchen.

* * *

Unwilling to cling to the hope that Magnus had succeeded, Clary ordered herself to wiggle her big toe. All of her toes moved. She suppressed a snort. She had never been able to move just one toe. Next, she moved her fingers. She spread them out on the bed that she had laid on for two years. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get out of it. Her eyes popped open and instantly locked with the catlike eyes of Magnus Bane. She forced herself into a sitting position.

"Do you know who I am, Clary?" He asked. Instead of giving him an answer, she decided to ask the question that had been tormenting her throughout her entire "sleep." She only spent seven hours of each night asleep. The rest of the time, she was just as aware as everyone else. She just couldn't move or open her eyes.

"Did…" Her eyes widened as she heard her own voice. The one word came out as a whisper. Just trying to speak seemed to agitate her throat. Suddenly, a glass of water appeared beside her. She followed the masculine hand up and saw Isaac. The man she had saved that night. Her smile felt strange on her lips. He smiled back.

"Hey, Angel," he whispered. Her cheeks instantly flushed. Magnus chuckled; Isaac smiled. Clary took the glass from his hand and took a sip of the water.

"It work?" She finished her previous sentence despite the pain. For a moment, Magnus looked confused. Then she watched the pieces click.

"You wouldn't be awake if it didn't," he said, amusement in his tone. Clary nodded her head to the side in answer. She took another sip of water. A bigger one this time. Even though she had a thousand more questions, there was something else she needed to do first. Her eyes locked with Adele's grey, blue ones. Adele smiled softly.

"Thank you," she croaked. The woman's eyes widened. She took another sip of water, even though she knew that the reason for her hoarseness wasn't a dry throat. Her voice was cracking and weak because of disuse. "For everything you did for me," she flicked her gaze to Isaac, "Both of you."

"Oh, you don't have to thank us," Adele said, tugging at her long black hair. The length and color reminded Clary of Isabelle. She looked away from Adele and back to the cover. She swallowed as the memory of the last time she saw her kind-of friend flashed into her mind. It had been as she was running from that house like a coward. She flopped back onto the bed and raised her still shaking hands to cover her face.

"Angel?" Isaac called. Clary didn't lower her hands from over her face. Pain ripped through her like being stabbed with an extremely dull knife as the memories came rushing back. During her sleep, it had been like seeing everything through muddied water. Now, it was all clear. The floodgates were open.

_"Fine, Clary. Go ahead and do whatever you want, regardless of who it hurts. You always do anyway, don't you?"(City of Glass, page 117, Cassandra Clare)__**.**_She pressed her hands harder into her eyes. Her words had hurt less than Jace's.

"_You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter. You don't how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-all you ever think about is yourself! But there's a war on now, or there will be, and I don't have the time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get one of us killed!" (City of Glass, page 124, Cassandra Clare.)_ It had been two years. Two years and those words kept circling in her mind. His words still ripped into her like a serrated edge knife. All she could remember after was running. The moments in between Sebastian finding her and taking her to see Ragnor Fell were all a blur. Fear suddenly swamped through her as she realized she would have to see him again. She had dreamt of a thousand different reunions between them. When she awoke, it became her reality. She would have to face him. Yet, no matter how afraid she was, she longed for it.

Thinking of Jace lead to another memory.

_Clary bit into her bottom lip. She was going to disappoint Amatis again, but this was more important than seeing Jace. This was about saving her mother. Clary looked back at the small room Amatis had loaned her and whispered a quiet apology. She then slipped out the window easily. Clary stayed to the dark alleyways. She avoided the low lights of the city streets. _

_She only paused at the door of the Penhallows' house. The only difference she could see was a broken window. A small gasp escaped her lips as Jace appeared at the shattered window, but he didn't look down as she had feared. He looked out over the buildings. _

"_Jace?" A female voice drifted through the window. Clary's jaw clenched as she recognized she voice. Aline. She didn't wait to hear what was said; she didn't want to see if Jace sent her away. She slipped around the side of the house, well out of Jace's sight. She held her breathe until she cleared the house. She reached the gate with its huge towers and sighed. The gate doors were locked up tight at night. No one in and no one out. _

'_If Jace could do it, then I can…' She thought as she bent at the knees. She looked up at the edge of the gate. 'I just have to get high enough to grab ahold of the edge. From there, all I have to do is pull myself up.' She thought as she shoved as much power as she could into her legs. She shot upward. Her hand closed around the rough concrete of the edge. She grit her teeth as she felt the skin of her hand tear. She brought her other hand up quickly onto the edge. The pain only increased as she tried to pull herself up, but she pushed on. This was important and there was no way it could wait until morning. A job like this needed to fly under the radar and what better time than now? She heaved herself up over the edge. The jar of hitting the ground caused stars to explode behind her eyes. She stumbled and struggled to right herself. She tensed for a moment, as if waiting for alarms to go off. Nothing happened. She sighed gently and set off in a brisk walk with one destination in mind. _

_ Wayland Manor. _

Clary began to shake as she recalled meeting the angel and finding the White Book. Killing the angel. She swallowed back bile. It was necessary, she had told herself at the time, for him to be free. She recalled pressing a kiss to the forehead of the angel before ending his life with a blade on the wall. He had left her his knowledge of Valentine's and Sebastian's plans.

_It was late in the night when she knocked on Ragnor Fell's door again. Like the time before, Magnus opened it. His catlike eyes widened as he saw what in her hands. He reacted as though he were a child on Christmas Eve. She couldn't bring herself to be amused. Her heart still bled from her day. The angel's starved body. She clenched her hands into fists. Her mind was racing so quickly that she barely heard Magnus telling her that he was leaving for New York. _

_ "I'll be there later…" She recalled hearing herself whisper. She followed the warlock out of the house. She watched blankly as he disappeared and started down the dirt path back to the city. There were so many things she needed to do before she returned. Like tell Jace everything she had seen and warn him of what was to come… _

_"Clary?" She froze and looked up from the dirt path. Sebastian Verlac stood a few feet from her. His curious and slightly suspicious dark eyes locked on her. Suddenly, she recalled everything the angel had shown her. Of things to come unless she finds a way to stop it. Sebastian and Valentine had stood side by side. Clary fought the urge to take a step back and run the other way. Sebastian had no reason to think she was onto him while she knew she couldn't let him leave this clearing._

"_**You'll die…"**__ She heard a voice that sounded strangely like Jace whisper inside her mind. Her heart ripped open again as his harsh words broke through the walls she had built around the memory. 'You're right,' Clary answered the voice. 'But I can't let him leave this clearing…even if I don't either. He'll hurt everyone. You, Isabelle, Alec, Max…this whole world will suffer if he makes it out of this clearing. No. I will not be the cause of that.'_

"_What are you doing out here?" He asked, truly sounding curious. _

_ "I just had to get away from the city for a while," she said. "It's very peaceful out here." She motioned toward the clearing they stood in. He looked around too and nodded. He started walking closer to her. Her fight or flight reaction kicked in. She forced herself to remain relaxed even though her muscles wanted so badly to tense. _

_ "That it is," he agreed as he moved closer. He now stood so close to her that she had to bend her neck to look up at him. There was an air about him that told her he suspected her reasons. "You know the body has ways of giving away a lie," he said offhandedly. Clary's heart picked up. "For instance, the pulse." He raised his hand and ran it across her throat. His finger lingered on her pulse point. He mimicked its beat against her throat. He flattened his hand across her throat. The heat of his hand seeped into her neck. She knew she had to tread carefully now. An idea rose in her head. No matter how disgusted she was by it, it was her only chance. She licked her lips and forced a blush to her cheeks. _

_ "I…can't help what my pulse does around you, Sebastian…" She said quietly. She avoided his eyes expertly as she whispered the next lie, "I'm afraid I'm like the other girls that see you." She glanced up at him. His black eyes met her eyes. Obviously searching for something. "You see, I'm fascinated by you." Her words repulsed her, but she made sure that it didn't show on her face. He smiled as he processed her words. _

_ "And I you," he told her. Clary's eyes widened as he started to slowly come closer. She forced herself not to step back or shove him. Jace's face flashed behind her eyes as Sebastian's lips descended on hers. She kept the image of the last kiss Jace gave her in her mind's eye as she kissed Sebastian back. Despite not wanting to let the image go, she knew she had too. She opened her eyes. Sebastian's eyes were closed and she could feel something stabbing her thigh. She shivered. His arms tightened around her; no doubt thinking he had brought the reaction from her. A chill ran through her veins as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. Again, she shivered as forced herself to allow him access. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders. Her eyes fixed on the seraph blade strapped to his back. She pressed closer to him and wrapped a thigh around his waist. Hoping that her body pressed against him would be enough to addle is brain so that he wouldn't noticed the weight of the blade leaving his back. He wrapped his hand around her thigh. She left the one hand around the blade handle and slide the other down his chest. A small, real squeak of surprise escaped her as he picked her up. He smirked against her lips and pressed her into a tree. She lowered one leg back to the ground hoping that her steadily lowering hand would fool him. It worked. He dropped her other leg and moved his hands to the button of her jeans. She shivered. Just before her fingertips could brush his pant button, she pulled her hand away. The blade came free as she shoved her shoulder into his chest. He stumbled back. She twirled the blade so that it rested securely in her hand. _

"_Ithuriel," she whispered. It was fitting, she supposed, for her blade to be named after the angel that her father had tormented. The shock in his eyes died away almost instantly. Then, he laughed cruel yet amused. "You truly are something else, Clarissa," he cooed. He jerked a seraph blade from his belt. She held the blade tighter. Her eyes moved over him. She could see the amount of runes he had on his arms. She already knew she was outmatched, but she could also see that he looked down upon her. He knew she didn't know much about the Shadowhunter world. He smirked and proved it. He motioned for her to come at him. "I'll even give you a free hit." Her eyes narrowed. She darted forward and swiped wide. He jumped back thinking she meant to cut his head off. She slashed his arm deeply. He hissed and fell back, but she didn't stop coming. She slashed at him again. He jumped back; she got the inside of his thigh. He grabbed her wrist. She saw the blade coming toward her stomach. She twisted out of the way and slipped her foot between his. She pulled. He had to let go of her wrist to catch himself. Instantly, he flipped back onto his feet smoothly. Pain sheered up her side and she knew he had gotten her despite her best attempt, but she didn't look down to see. She knew he hadn't hit anywhere critical. Fatigue suddenly slammed into her. She blinked it away. Now was not the time to give into a night of little sleep._

_ She studied him as he moved away from her. He moved with predator-like, but most of all, he moved like Jace. She had watched Jace enough to know how he moved, but she didn't want to fully rely on the idea that they had been taught by the same man. His muscles bunched. His left leg was more relaxed than the other. He was going to come at her from the right. Then, he was coming. She raised her blade just in time to push his strike away from her heart. His strike clipped her shoulder. She felt the blood rushing from the split skin. She kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could. He stumbled back a few paces and she rushed forward. She moved her wrist like she intended to cut across his chest. He leaned back to avoid the swipe he believed coming, leaving his legs open; she changed direction at the last moment. The seraph blade cut the inside of his other thigh deeply. His lip pulled up over his front teeth in a snarl. He punched her in the jaw. "This is almost insulting…" He hissed as she stumbled backward. He rushed forward and he spoke, "try and kill me!" His growl told her all that she needed to hear. He had no idea what she was doing. Blood rushed in waves from his thighs and arm. He was losing blood fast and he didn't even realize it. In minutes, he should be slowing down so that she stood a chance. But until then…She just barely blocked his next slash. She ducked his fist and instinctually swept his legs. She caught his foot and pulled his legs apart. He screamed out as he was pulled into the perfect splits. The action pulled the slashes on his legs wider. She rose to her feet quickly and slashed at him. He laid down to avoid her sweep and then planted both feet into her chest. She gasped out as she was lifted off of her feet. She kept her grip on the seraph blade. That was the only thing that mattered. She had to hold on to that blade. It was her only hope at survival; that and the stele tucked into her pocket. He was on her before she even hit the ground. She knocked his strike aimed at her head away from her. His blade imbedded in the ground. She moved her leg upward. He moved to jump back, but the blood loss made him slow as she knew it would. She kicked out at his knee. There was a loud crack as the bone shattered. He screamed. As he was falling to his knees, she vaulted upright into a sitting position; seraph blade extended. She shoved the seraph blade upward into his open chest. It pierced through his heart and straight through him. Both of their lips parted in surprise. He looked from the blade back to her. The betrayal in his eyes hit a chord within her. She was both outraged and saddened. He didn't chose to be the way he was now. He wasn't responsible for the way he was raised; he was however responsible for following Valentine's poisonous ways. He was misguided and twisted by the demon blood put inside of him. He had been damned by the start. The very revelation threatened to make her cry. The brother she had always longed for sat dying because of her. The brother she had never gotten to know…She shook her head as tears started to fall. Numbness filled her as she watched his body slump off of her blade. She pushed the blade into her belt, not even bothering to clean it off. She deserved to live with the blood on her blade. The inescapable fact of it all would haunt her forever. _

_ She had just killed her brother. All thoughts of healing herself had fled. Now, she just wanted out of the clearing and far away from her brother's dead body. _

The building nausea at the memory reached its point. Her hands dropped quickly from her face. She rolled to the side and threw up. Shivers racked her body. She sobbed over the mess she had made. She felt warm hands pulling her hair back. The gentle hands she knew belonged to Adele. The vomit at the side of the bed vanished with a lazy flick of Magnus' hand.

"Are you alright?" Adele asked softly as she helped her sit up. Clary noticed then that Adele had climbed onto the bed with her. She ran her thumbs over Clary's cheeks, but no sooner than one tear was wiped away another would come. She could find her voice to reassure her. So, she simply shook her head no as a horrible sob escaped her throat. She collapsed into Adele's arms and tried to cry out her guilt and shame.

X

After she had cried herself out, Clary stood from the bed for the first time in two years. She was surprised that she hadn't fallen the minute she stood up; her green eyes instantly sought out Adele. The older woman smiled encouragingly at her. Magnus and Isaac stood only a foot in front of her, both ready to catch her if she fell. She would have tried to smile if it weren't for the pain in her legs. She forced a foot forward. Her already shaking legs shook harder with the effort.

"Just a few steps, okay?" Adele said it like it was a question, but Clary could clearly hear the demand in her tone. Clary nodded. She didn't think she could take very many despite the workouts Adele had been giving her for the past two years. She could hear Magnus and Isaac turning as she reached the door. Her shaking legs finally gave out. Bright, green zebra print clad arms were instantly underneath her arms. She looked up to see Magnus' catlike eyes peering down at her.

"I got you," he reassured her as he pulled her up.

"Let's go to the kitchen and get some real food into you instead of that broth I've been feeding you for two years," Adele said. Clary smiled. She never thought that she could possibly feel excited for food. "Nothing too hard of course. You won't be having a steak right away. Probably just mashed potatoes. You haven't had anything but broth for the past two years. I don't want you losing whatever I feed you," Adele seemed so sheepish and apologetic. Clary laughed.

"That sounds perfect," Clary reassured her. And really, it did. A small shout of surprise escaped her lips as Magnus scooped her bridal style into his arms. She grabbed ahold of his shoulder on reflex. He chuckled. "I'm not going to drop you," he promised.

"I believe you," she muttered. He hugged her closer as he turned them through the doorway. Her head gently brushed the doorway despite it. Confident that he wouldn't drop her, she moved her hand from his shoulder to her stomach. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. "How's Alec?" She asked. The real question burned at the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid of the answer.

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to know, Clarissa?" Magnus asked. His eyes were amused yet sad. A small smile ticked her lips. He always did see straight through her.

'_I suppose it comes from the years he meddled around in my head…' _She thought without bitterness. "How are they doing?" She whispered.

"I suppose you'll just have to see," he answered. Her heart began to hammer at the prospect of seeing them again. Her mother, her fath-Luke. She swallowed and bowed her head. Isabelle, Alec…Jace. Yes, she longed to see them, but the fear of rejection still lingered.

'_Will they still want to see me once they learn what I've done?' _Despite not wanting to, she imagined each of their backs turning on her. Jace stood last. His golden eyes stared accusingly at her.

"_To kill an angel is the most heinous of crimes,"_ he says in that logical yet harsh tone of his-the same he had used on her that night in Pandemonium when they first met, _"Yet, to add on top of it and kill a fellow Shadowhunter, your own brother? I should kill you where you stand," _He hisses, _"But, no, you deserve to live with what you've done." _

Magnus' grip tightened on her as he felt her shoulders begin to shake. He glanced down at her worriedly, but she refused to lift her head.

* * *

Alec leaned back against the wall and furrowed his brows. His warlock wasn't answering the call button. He had grown worried when Magnus didn't show up at Luke's house. Magnus was a regular at that house. He was especially serious about going to Clary's day so not seeing him had sent off alarm bells. Jace and Isabelle stood beside him.

"Doesn't he have a cell phone?" Jace asked. Cell phones were relatively new for the Shadowhunters and only a few-like Jace, Isabelle, and Alec-carried them. Alec suppressed the urge to smack himself as he looked toward his parabatai. It was Magnus that suggested they carry them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Magnus' cell.

X

Clary looked away from her bowl of soup and mashed potatoes at the shrill ring. Magnus' hand shot to his pocket. He pulled his cell out of his pocket. Clary felt her blood go cold. She didn't want him to leave. Magnus glanced at her as he answered his phone. He smiled reassuringly, once again he had seen through her. She blushed and looked back to her food. He held the phone away from his mouth and told her.

"He's had me almost every day for the past two years. Now is your Magnus time," a mischief glint filled his eyes. "You should be honored." He added. Clary laughed, but it had hardly any sound. He put the phone back to his ear. He stood so close to her that she could hear everything.

Before he could even greet the caller, Alec spoke, _"Where are you?"_ Magnus glanced toward her. She was certain that the panic in her eyes was evident. Despite the understanding in his eyes, she could see the reproach in them. He understood that she wasn't ready, but he still loved Alec. And he had seen firsthand what this was doing to his Shadowhunters.

"At a client's," he sighed.

X

Alec blinked. He looked at Magnus' name on the panel strangely before glancing over at his parabatai and his sister. They both looked surprised. Jace's surprise swiftly turned into anger as his mind quickly processed the words. Alec moved away from his arm reach. He wouldn't put it past his brother to jerk the phone away from him and start insulting Magnus. Still, even Alec was struggling for words.

"What client was more important than honoring Clary and being there for Jocelyn?" He said slowly, hoping that the slow tone would keep the outrage and anger out of his voice.

X

Magnus closed his eyes at the question, but they snapped open again as he heard Clary's surprised gasp. He looked over at her. Clary swallowed at the slight pleading she saw in his eyes. He wanted so badly to give them some idea. Some way to put their worries, their pain to rest. She swallowed.

"I can't…" She said brokenly. Magnus studied her expression. He recalled how she had looked when she had shown up at Ragnor Fell's for the last time. So defeated and empty. It was now that the pieces fell into place. One of them had something to do with that broken expression. He would bet the White Book that it was Jace. Magnus closed his eyes and prepared to lie to his love.

She couldn't listen to the further conversation. The expression on Magnus' face told her all she had to know.

"_Go ahead and do whatever you want, regardless of who it hurts. You always do anyway, don't you?" _Isabelle's angry words returned to her head. Tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn't look at Magnus anymore. She looked back to her soup and forced another spoonful into her mouth. The chair beside her scrapped back. She jumped as Isaac sat down beside her. He stared into her eyes. She could see that he wanted to ask her something. It was obvious in the way his eyes darted around hers and the way his fingers quietly tapped on the table.

"What?" She demanded quickly. He bit his bottom lip slightly before speaking.

"I understand that you aren't ready to see your friends just yet," he said slowly, gauging her expression to his words. She looked away from his eyes and back to her soup. "But how about we start with your mom and dad?" He proposed the compromise. He snuck a glance at his younger sister. Adele was spooning out them some servings of mashed potatoes and soup. He knew that if she had ever disappeared, he would move heaven and hell to find her again. She was his sister and, though he never said it, he loved her. Adele turned toward them. She spotted her brother's gaze on her and smiled slightly. Isaac looked back to Clary.

Despite the racing of her heart, the fear thrumming through her veins, she nodded. Isaac nodded back to her; a small smile tugged at his lips. She couldn't mirror his happy expression. Dread had pooled in the pit of her stomach. How was she going to tell her mother that the young man she had grieved over for sixteen years was really dead? How was she going to look her mother in the eye knowing that she had killed her older brother?

* * *

She sat in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed, nervous to lay back down. She bounced her knee and stared at the light blue walls. There was a small, timid knock on her door. She looked away from the wall to see Adele. She came into to the room slowly.

"Sorry," she apologized with a small sheepish smile, "I just got into the habit of checking on you."

"I know," Clary smiled. "I was conscious for most of the two years. I just couldn't open my eyes or…you know…move." She finally admitted. Adele's eyes widened. Clary looked away from her and back to the cream colored comforter. She ran her hands over the smooth fabric. "So, I'm kind of afraid to go back to sleep. What if it was all just a dream?" She clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Adele sank onto the bed next to her. She raised her hand and ran it through the curls softly.

"We'll be here to remind you," Adele promised. Clary looked over at her. She wasn't looking at her. She was staring out the door. "Every day if you want…" She added quietly. Suddenly, Clary knew why Adele had come. It was more than just habits. She was afraid that she wouldn't want them around now that she had a chance to have her family and friends back. Clary smiled and grabbed the hand that was running through her curls. She twined their fingers together and squeezed. Adele looked toward her.

"You are a part of my family now," she reassured her. "I'm going to need you and Isaac. More now than ever." They had been constants for the past two years. The truly felt like her family. Adele and Isaac were like the older siblings she had never had.

She could still recall the way Isaac sat with her, holding her hand. More often than not, he wouldn't speak at all. He would just let his touch be her anchor. Or he would trace runes into her arm. It had become a game for her to try and figure out which rune he was doodling on her arm with his forefinger. Sometimes, he would explain to her what each rune was. She could still remember the shape and name of each rune he doodled. Then, there were times when both siblings were in the room with her. They would tease other good-naturedly and share their inside jokes with her. He and Adele had kept her hope alive. She wouldn't have made it without them; she just hoped everyone else understood that she wasn't going to cut them out of her life.

Adele smiled softly and squeezed her hand back. "You will always have a home here," she promised. "Anytime your parents or your friends get to be too much for you, we'll be here." Clary licked her lips.

"Will you guys go with me tomorrow?" she asked quietly. Adele looked closely at her. Her blue-grey eyes locked on Clary's green eyes. Clary sat still as Adele searched for any reluctance.

"Are you sure?" She asked. Clary nodded. "Then I would be honored." She leaned in close to Clary and mock-whispered, "I think Isaac was going to stalk the taxi if you didn't ask." Clary smiled and shook her head. Adele grinned. "I would have too." She added with an unashamed shrug. Clary laughed.

* * *

**(A/N: **For the entire first three chapters, I have listened to Impossible by James Arthur like five times. I felt like including the lyrics that related to the situation would be kind of distracting. But listen to the song and you'll more than likely be able to see why. During the fight scene though I was listening to Somebody to Die For by Hurts. I think this is the one fan fiction that I've written that is going to have a soundtrack.

Once again, thank you all for the follows, favorites, and reviews. I practically enjoyed guest review that said "Oh. Shit just got real" and **ClaryH**'s review about my writing. I don't know why but I found it amusing. Thank you **Bones McCoy** and** BellaEd** for worrying about me, but I'm fine now. I was just a little dehydrated.

Please tell me what you guys think about my character interactions. Tell me what you think about how I've written Magnus, Clary, or even my two OCs-Isaac and Adele. I'd love to hear it.)


	4. Parents

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 4

_Parents_

Clary bit into her bottom lip as she climbed out of the taxi that had taken them to Luke's house. Her nerves were so bad that Adele grabbed her hands halfway through the ride. She had scratched her right wrist so much that it was bleeding. She had been reluctant to let go when it came time for them to get out. So with Adele holding both her hands, Clary surveyed in the house that was as familiar to her as her own apartment in Brooklyn had been. It looked relatively the same; such an unremarkable grey. She noted with mild amusement that Luke still recycled.

"I'm going to go…warn them," Magnus tore her away from the house. Her momentarily calmed nerves fired up again with that simple sentence. Clary bit harder into her bottom lip and nodded. Her hands shook in Adele's loose grip. The older woman tightened her grip and rubbed her thumbs over the tops of Clary's hands. Isaac stood the side taking it all in. His eyes finally came to a rest on Clary and Adele. Adele was doing her best to soothe Clary's nerves, but it seemed to be failing. Her bottom lip was getting redder by the minute. He couldn't help but think that she looked so much smaller standing there in his soft blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and jeans. The shoes on her feet were the ones she had been found in. Adele had cleaned them and set them aside for her. Even though Adele had bought Clary more than enough shirts over the years, she still went with his. It made him feel special that she searched for comfort and found it in him.

Magnus was halfway to the porch when a thumb pulled her bottom lip loose from her teeth. She looked over to see Isaac's sympathetic green eyes; he lowered his hand to her shoulder.

"These are your parents," he told her softly. "They will love you no matter what you have to tell them." Shock made her lips fall open. How did he….? He smiled gently. Magnus walked through the front door. "Perhaps we should walk toward the porch now?" He asked. Clary swallowed and nodded. Isaac extended his elbow. She couldn't help but smile slighting and loop her arm through his. She looked over to see Adele doing the same. An amused chuckle escaped her lips as she looped her arm through his.

"I feel like we should be singing We're Off to see the Wizard…and skipping," Clary muttered. Both siblings looked at her as if she had grown a second head. She couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped her. Adele caught the reference first and chuckled.

"That will have to be put off for a few more months," Adele teased. Clary smiled. She knew why the siblings had extended their arms. It was to catch her if her legs gave out. Suddenly, the distance to the porch didn't seem so intimidating. She tightened her arms around them and took the first step toward the porch. Once they reached it, Adele forced her to sit in the rocking chair.

Through the window, she could see her mother and Luke sitting at the table. Her heart jumped into her throat as she looked at her mother. It took everything in her to wait until Magnus had warned them. She just wanted to run to her and throw her arms around her. All of her anger at being shut out and lied to had melted away over those two years. Time in a vegetative state had brought a lot of things to focus. Her situation will her mother was one of them. Her foot bounced impatiently as she listened to Magnus clear his throat. She saw her mother and Luke look up.

"Magnus!" She heard her mother greet. "We missed you yesterday." Magnus shifted onto his left foot.

"Yes, well. I can't say I'm sorry that I didn't come." She watched her mother's eyes flash. She flinched. _'Oh Magnus…'_ she thought in exasperation. "You see, I found something much better." To save her friend, Clary stood from the chair. Her legs shook even with the short rest. They reached for her, but she held her finger to her lips and pointed toward her slowly reddening mother. She opened the door quietly and closed it. The familiar smell of books and home nearly brought her to her knees. Tears gathered in her eyes. _'How I have missed this place…' _She forced herself to leave the front door. Clary braced herself against the wall as her legs threatened to give out. She slid her hand across the wall as she moved toward the kitchen. "Now, you can treasure her for the rest of your lives." She saw the hope flash through her mother's eyes. She stood quickly from the table.

"You found her?!" She exclaimed. Magnus nodded.

"She's out-"He looked toward the window. His brows furrowed. Adele pointed toward the house. "Well…she was outside." Clary giggled as she came to a shaky stop next to him. She leaned against the archway. Magnus glanced over at her. The worry in his catlike eyes warmed her. She smiled slightly.

"You just wanted to give me a dramatic entrance," she said drily. Magnus shrugged. She didn't bother telling him that it was slightly cruel to do that to her parents. It was complete Magnus behavior and she knew that he didn't mean it that way. "I should have known." She looked toward her parents. Her mother stood, pale and unmoving as if a ghost leaned against the wall. Clary's eyes filled with tears as she stared at her mother. She jumped violently when a chair smacked the floor. Pain seared up her legs at the jolt, but she forced herself to stay standing. Her legs shook so hard that her entire body shook. Luke stared at her. She stared at him. And then she was in his arms. He lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her arms around him as well. "Hi, daddy." She whispered in his ear. Luke froze. She did too. It had slipped out without her consent, but she had always meant it; he had just always told her that he wasn't her father. Being rebuffed for it so long made her weary to call him anything. A sob tore from his lips. He tightened his arms around her.

"Hi, baby. Hi. Hi. Hi," he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. She tightened her arms around him. Her own tears hit his shoulder. She had missed him…missed them so much. She set her forehead down onto his shoulder.

Jocelyn stepped forward. She was finally convinced that the beautiful vision before her wasn't another fantasy she had fabricated; in her fantasies, there were never any tears. There were enough of those in life. She watched as Luke set her little girl down. Clary turned to her and took her breathe. Gone was her little girl. In front of her now was a woman. There was a wisdom in her eyes that her daughter had lacked so many years ago. It was heartbreaking. Her baby had grown up without her. She took a shaky step forward and took her daughter's cheeks in her hands. For a moment, they just stared at one another with tears running down their cheeks in twin rivers. Clary smiled shakily. Relief welled up inside her again at seeing her mother well and awake.

"Mom…" She breathed brokenly. "Mom…thank god…" She whispered before she threw her arms around her mother's shoulders. Jocelyn's hands fell from her face to her daughter's waist. She hugged her daughter closely and cried against her shoulder. She cried tears of relief. Another set of arms wrapped around them. Jocelyn opened her eyes to see Luke resting his head on top of Clary's. Together, the three of them cried out the pain of separation.

X

Isaac and Adele sat outside on the porch, trying not to watch the scene. It seemed like such a private moment. It was as heartbreaking as it was beautiful. In a way, Adele supposed, they had kept that beautiful girl from her family-even if it was unintentional. She looked away from the small porch as the door opened. Magnus stepped out and sat down on the rocking chair across from them. His catlike eyes were filled with tears that he refused to let fall.

"When do you think she'll be ready to see her friends?" Adele questioned Magnus. He looked up at her. A small sigh escaped from his lips as he ran a hand through his spikey black hair. Glitter tumbled from it in small waves. The sun caught the glitter and made them sparkle all the way to the floor. Adele looked back up at the warlock.

"She'll probably ease into it. Start with her best friend, Simon, because she won't be able to bare not going to him first. The guilt of it would be colossal for her. After that, I have no idea what order she'll go in or what she'll do," Magnus said.

Clary appeared at the door suddenly. Tear tracks were still down her cheeks as she opened the screen door. She motioned for them to come in. Isaac and Adele shared a look before standing from their chairs. Magnus tagged along behind them with his hands in his pockets.

"Mom, dad…" She added timidly. She looked at Luke. There was no rejection of the name on his face. He was only tearing up again. She smiled softly and motioned back toward the siblings that had followed her in, "This is Isaac and Adele Verona. They've been taking care of me for the past two years."

The first thing Jocelyn noticed about the two individuals before her was that they were brother and sister. Isaac was clearly a Shadowhunter. Adele, however, was mark free. Neither looked to be much older than her daughter. Maybe three to four years separated them from Clary.

Adele saw the searching look Jocelyn had given her and said, "Being a Shadowhunter wasn't what I wanted; my parents understood that and sent me to a school close to where we lived in Idris." Jocelyn nodded.

"Thank you both for taking care of my daughter," Jocelyn thanked them. Isaac nodded.

"You don't have to thank us for that, Mrs. Fray," Adele said. Jocelyn returned the woman's smile. Jocelyn saw Adele's eyes flick over to Clary. She looked to and saw what she had neglected to notice before in her shock. Her legs were shaking like a leaf and there was a look of pain on her face. "Now, I believe we need to sit down," Adele said as she took Clary's arm and led her to the couch.

Clary looked around at her family. Adele and Jocelyn sat on either side of her. Both women were holding one of her hand. Isaac sat in the armchair across from them. Luke sank down in the one beside him. Magnus was leaning against the couch arm closest to Jocelyn. Luke and her mother were waiting for the story of where she had been; Isaac, Adele, and Magnus were waiting to know how she had come to be with them. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. She swallowed.

"_These are your parents. They will love you no matter what you have to tell them,"_ Isaac's words drifted back to her. She held onto those words as she took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I was just leaving Ragnor Fell's after giving Magnus the White Book," at the confused look on Adele and Isaac's faces, she explained, "it's a book of recipes and powerful incantations that were once lost to warlocks."

"Thank you for not calling them spells…" Magnus muttered from his position. Clary smiled slightly. His tone reminded her slightly of the way Jace and Alec had said they didn't do magic, that aggravated "I get that often" type voice.

"How I came by it is a story for another time," Clary told them. She avoided her mother's eye in favor of the carpet as she spoke. "Sebastian Verlac…"

"We found out that he was an imposter," Magnus injected. Clary looked over at him. He balked at the amount of pain and knowing in her eyes. She nodded at him.

"I know. His real name was Johnathan Morgenstern," Jocelyn gasped. Clary flinched and looked back to the rug. Suddenly, the small, almost unnoticeable patterns in the simple brown rug were fascinating. "He found me as I was walking back from Ragnor's. He greeted me as he would if we were friends, but there was something off about him. There was excitement and darkness in his eyes as if he had something planned for me. As if he was just waiting to get me alone…" She had went over that memory a thousand times over the two years, studying it and dissecting his every word, move, and look. "I see now that he had intended to kidnap me…not kill me as I had thought." At some point during her monologue, she had looked up at the people in the room. All had a varying green tint to their skin. Luke's hands were clenched tightly into fists; she could see the signs of his wolf rising to the surface. His blue eyes shimmered golden; his jaw jumped furiously. Clary looked away from him. Magnus' normally dark skin was slightly pale, but he wasn't as shocked as the others. It was almost as if he had been expecting something like this. She kept her eyes on him because his expression was the one she could bare most. His green-gold eyes kept hers. The acceptance and buried affection in them gave her the courage to continue her story. "During that fight…he was simply playing with me. He never thought…" She trailed off as she saw the horror on her mother's face out of the corner of her eye. Her words got stuck in her throat. She looked away.

"The injection…" Isaac's statement pulled her attention away from her mother. His slightly breathless voice was filled with the horror that was so clear on her mother's face. "It wasn't a healing agent…it was intended to…"

"Put me asleep so that I wouldn't see where he was taking me. I believe he intended to wake me back up once he got back to his and Valentine's base," Clary muttered. Her voice giving out slightly at the end. Adele rose from the couch instantly and walked back to the kitchen. There was the sound of cabinets being searched, a glass clicked against the counter, and the refrigerator opened.

"Clary…" Jocelyn breathed as Adele re-entered the room. Jocelyn felt her stomach sinking at the question she was about to voice and the sudden tension in her daughter's shoulders. "What did Johnathan never think?" Adele handed Clary the glass. She took a sip of the water and looked away from her mother's green eyes.

"That I would win," Clary whispered. She easily recalled how cockily he had taunted her, how he had demanded that she try and kill him, and that she take him seriously. All the while, he had been more than likely plotting how he would taunt her later. There was no glory in winning, she felt. "That I would walk away…" Jocelyn's breathe caught. "It surprised me too," she chuckled bitterly. She was lost again in the memory. Her mother and Luke fell away as she recalled the shock in his dying eyes. She shivered. "My only thought was of the others. I knew what awaited them if he left that clearing. He would kill them all and inform me of it later. I wasn't going to let him take me and I wasn't going to let him leave that clearing…but I never thought I would win. I thought…I would die attempting to defeat him…"

"Stop…" Jocelyn croaked through her tears. The hollow look in her daughter's eyes was killing her. The knowledge that she had failed her baby girl and her son so atrociously cut her like a knife. Her children had been pitted against one another. Her daughter had been forced to kill her brother; and she would be forever haunted by it. Clary looked over at her.

"I understand…" Clary muttered. "If you can't forgive me…" Jocelyn shook her head. A sob escaped her throat.

"I forgive you, baby. I forgive you," she cried as she wrapped her arms around her broken girl. Clary shook her head and pushed herself out of her mother's resisting arms. It was fine for her mother to say she forgives her, but for it matter she had to forgive herself first. Two years in a coma had helped her along that path, but she really needed was her mother's forgiveness to move on. She blocked out the residual guilt that lingered and her own tears; she forced herself to finish her story.

"I left the clearing," she glanced up at him. Her eyes unseeing as she drifted back into the memory.

_She heard a man gurgling once she got a little farther away from clearing. A man lay there dying. Black was spreading up his veins; he was withering in pain. She raced over to him and hit her knees before him. His green eyes darted over to her. They widened as he assessed her injuries. She struggled with the numbness in her hands to reach the stele. She wrapped her fingers around it and jerked it out. She pulled his shirt up. A rune rose in her mind's eye. The name tickled her lips. Purge. She nodded and drew it on his stomach. His back arched off of the ground; a horrible scream exploded from his lips. Black ichor poured from his wounds. She bit into her lip and fought the sleepiness that was returning. Once it was safe, she drew the iratze on his stomach beside the purge rune. _

_ Blood loss combined with little sleep caused her eyes to slip closed. She tumbled forward before she could stop herself right onto the man's stomach. The last thing she was aware of was the man calling her repeatedly, telling her to hold on, then the burn of an iratze being put on her skin. _She blinked away the memory to see all eyes on her.

"Why didn't you heal yourself first?" Isaac asked the question that had been bothering him for two years. The others muttered their agreement. Clary smiled darkly. Isaac's eyes widened. The plea for her not to confirm his fears was at the edge of his lips.

"I was already so dead inside…Even though it was irrational…stupid even…I felt that I had nothing left to live for." Shock filled everyone in the room. "I wasn't going to be able to look my mother in eye. Dying was better than seeing the hate that I thought would be there once she knew what I had done." '_Jace wanted nothing to do with me; Isabelle and Alec seemed to side with him,' _she thought as she avoiding looking at the people in the room; she didn't want to see the pitying looks. _'I was pathetic then. Jace had broken me,' _a dark chuckle bubbled up from her lips, _'and I still love him with the carefully taped together pieces...' _

"I could never hate you…" Jocelyn's strong vow brought her from her thoughts. She shook herself from that dark place and looked over at her mother for a moment. Her mother's green eyes were filled with conviction and sincerity.

"I know that now. Two years in a vegetative state gives you clarity," Clary stated. The six sat in silence. For the others, the horror of what Clary had been through was sinking in. Clary's eyes were locked on the DVD cases by the television. She could see that they were labeled by year. Home videos. She looked over at her mother and Luke. Was this how they had been coping? "What was yesterday? What did Magnus mean by honoring me?" She asked. Jocelyn looked away from the carpet.

"Every year on your birthday, the others would come here and we would watch the home videos…as a way to remember you together. To keep the hope alive that you were somewhere out there…and not…" Jocelyn still couldn't say it. Clary tilted her head.

"Others?" She asked. Jocelyn looked at her strangely.

"Simon, Jace, Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus, of course," Jocelyn said. Clary furrowed her brows. Jocelyn raised hers. "What is it?" Clary licked her lips and shook her head.

"It's nothing," she said. She knew that Jace's cutting words were something she wasn't going to repeat to anyone. They hurt too much to remember. How little he thought of her…how little faith he had in her. How little they all thought of her. They hadn't even thought her worth chasing after, not that she had wanted them to at the time. Still, it would have been nice to know that they cared. Her eyes filled with tears.

Jocelyn stared at her daughter. A small part of her couldn't believe that her daughter sat beside her, where she could touch her and hold her. She could see the shine of tears in her daughter's eyes and reached out. She took her daughter's hand. It was then that she noticed the rune on the back of her daughter's hand. It was the Voyance rune. Her eyes instantly darted up her daughter's arm. On the inside of her wrist, the Enkeli mark rested. Jocelyn clenched her jaw. She looked away from her daughter's arm to meet her green eyes. She forced a smile onto her lips.

"You do realize you're staying here, right? Forever?" Jocelyn said. She tacked on the last part teasingly, but she still meant it. She wasn't going to let her little girl out of her sight again for a very long time. Luke cut in, speaking for the first time.

"Just a few weeks, Jocelyn," Luke said gently. He understood his fiancé's want to keep Clary here, but he remembered Clary's love of her freedom. If they tried to keep her here and hovered over her for long, Clary would fight back. It would only push her away. "After all, she is eighteen. Legally, we can't keep her here." He winked at Clary. She smiled widely.

"You have chains in your shop and no one ever comes out here," Jocelyn pointed out seriously. Clary let go of her mother's hand quickly. Isaac raised his eyebrows; his mind still stuck on the fact that this seemingly nice couple had chains in a shop. Adele mirrored her older brother's expression while Magnus simply grinned. His catlike eyes sparkled in a way that she knew what was coming next.

"Kinky," he said teasingly. Luke rolled his eyes while Jocelyn elbowed him in the side.

"Okkkay, Mom…a little creeped out here." Clary muttered as she leaned away from her mom into Adele. She laughed once she saw the expressions on Isaac and Adele's faces. There was so much she needed to catch them up on. She looked back toward her parents who were currently good-naturedly teasing one another. They all had so much they needed to catch up on. Her mother motioned widely with her hands. Clary's breath froze in her lungs. She darted forward and grabbed her mother's left hand. The talk between them froze as Clary took in the delicate diamond ring. "Seriously?!" She exploded as she looked up at her mother and Luke. Luke's smile could light up an entire room. She looked back to her mother. She smiled and nodded. Clary couldn't contain the squeal that escaped her. She launched herself at her mom. "Finally!" Jocelyn laughed. "It only took the two of you what...over eighteen years?" Luke chuckled and met his fiancé's eyes through Clary's long, curly hair. She smiled and rubbed her daughter's shoulders. "How did this happen?" She asked.

"He proposed about an hour after I woke up and was coherent," Jocelyn said; her eyes were locked on Luke's. He smiled softly. The love between them took Clary's breathe away. From over her mom's shoulder, she could see Magnus smiling softly. Through the mirror, she could see Adele's expression. She was smiling softly as well. A true romantic at heart, that one. Clary smiled. "He said…"

"I should have done this years ago," Luke interjected. Clary looked over at him instantly, but his eyes were only for her mother. It was as if the room had fallen away. "I love you, Jocelyn Fairchild. I know I could possibly never be worthy of your love, but I want it. I want you from this point on to my dying day. I'm asking that you marry me."

"How can I say no?" Jocelyn whispered. Her eyes were so full of love. Clary blinked back tears. It was just so beautiful to her. Two of her most important people were finally happy. "I'll marry you, Lucian Graymark."

"Seriously, how could you have said no?" Magnus cut in. The moment between her mother and Luke was broken, but Clary got the feeling that this had actually happened as well. "That proposal was so smooth I almost fell in love with him." Clary fell into laughter. She could hear Adele's quiet giggles. Jocelyn smiled at Magnus. "You two gave the nurses a shock," Magnus told them teasingly. "Imagine their reaction when they come to check on Jocelyn over there and find her out of bed already, locking lips with a visitor?" Jocelyn shoved Magnus off of the couch with one hand.

X

Clary sat on her bed at Luke's. It was just as she remembered it being. They had kept her room clean and dusted. It both warmed her and hurt. They had held on so strongly to her; this room had become some sort of shrine for them. What if she had actually been dead? They would have held onto her for the rest of their lives. Mourning for her. A tear fell in the middle of the eye like rune on the back of her hand. She wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand.

"We can all start healing…" She whispered to the empty room. _'Well,'_ her traitorous thoughts reminded her, _'not everyone. There are still some people you need to see.' _She bit into her bottom lip and looked toward the evening sky out her window. From this window, she could see the place Simon and her used to lay out on a blanket underneath the sun and read. She would read whatever book had caught her interest-usually a teen fantasy-while he would read a manga. Her heart ached. Her eyes then wandered across the dead grass to the chain fence line. She could see the place where Jace had climbed over so easily. A small smile drifted onto her lips as she recalled the disappointed expression when the intruder turned out to be Simon.

A sudden knock at her door brought her from the memories. The image her mind had created of Jace vanished, leaving her numb. She looked back toward the door just as Adele poked her head into the room. At seeing her awake, Adele walked further into the room. She sank onto the bed beside her. Clary knew that Adele had come to say goodbye.

"We'll be back tomorrow, okay?" Adele promised. Clary nodded. It was so strange to see Adele and Isaac leaving; they had been with her constantly for two years, but she understood why they were doing this. She needed time to incorporate herself back into her parents' lives. She hadn't forgotten a single thing about either of them, but she wanted to know the changes the years had brought. They sat in silence before a firmer knock broke it. Isaac pushed the door open a little more and leaned against the frame. His head was bent slightly to the side so that the top of his dark head wouldn't brush the doorway. He smiled slightly at her.

"The taxi is here, sis," he told Adele. She nodded. Adele sighed and pushed herself to her feet. Isaac smiled sadly at his sister. "We'll come back tomorrow. It's not like its goodbye," he reminded her. Adele smiled at her older brother.

"Yeah," she said as she turned and kissed Clary on the forehead. Clary blushed and squeezed Adele's hand. Isaac smiled at her as his sister walked by him.

"See you later, Angel," he said as he turned to leave. Clary threw her hands up.

"It's Clary!" She reminded him. He turned back to her. His teasing green eyes met hers.

"Bye, Angel." She groaned. His laughter followed his retreat from her room. Clary threw her legs from over her bed and stood slowly. Her legs protested. She frowned and looked down at them. She had overdone it today. Her legs shook as she walked to her bookshelf. She was browsing the shelves for something she wanted to read when a voice made her jump.

"I thought you were going to lay down," Magnus said from the door. Clary grabbed the bookshelf and looked over and up at him. Magnus quirked an eyebrow. She was squatting down looking through the second to the bottom shelf. "Will you even be able to get up?" He challenged. He delighted in the way her eyes flashed. She used the shelf her hand was on and pushed herself up. Her legs shook with the motion. She gritted her teeth against the pain and looked defiantly at him. He laughed and walked over to her. She protested loudly as he swept her legs out from underneath her and deposited her on the bed. He turned around the get the book she had dropped. He heard the bed creak. "Get up and I swear I will chain you to that bed," he threatened without turning around. She stopped. He hid his smirk as he turned around. He handed her the book. She took it and had just opened it when he said, "I'm going to give you two weeks." Her eyes froze on the first word. Her green eyes flicked up to him.

"What? To finish The Three Musketeers?" She snarked. "Cause that may be a little difficult. It's 626 pages." Magnus stared at her severely. He folded his fingers together.

"I'll give you two weeks," he repeated, stepping closer to her. "If you don't tell them in that time, I will. Remember, they care about you too," his look, if possible, became even more severe and penetrating. Clary resisted the urge to fold underneath it. "No matter what happened in the past." Clary licked her lips and looked away from him.

"I'll tell them," She whispered after a minute of his staring at the side of her head. He nodded.

"Good," Magnus said. He reached forward and placed a hand on her head. She quirked an eyebrow up at him. He ruffled her hair. She glared and smacked his hand away. He chuckled and lowered his arm back to his side. His catlike eyes had a teasing look to them now. "Bye…Angel," he teased as he walked backward toward the door. She growled and threw the book at him. He stopped the book in mid-air and tsked at her. His smirk had widened into an annoying smile as he slipped out the door. The book thunked to the floor. She moved to retrieve it. Just as her toes brushed the floor chains rose out from underneath her bed. She squeaked and jerked her feet up. The chains laid back down.

"MAGNUS!" She shrieked as loud as her voice would allow. In the driveway, Magnus chuckled.

* * *

**(A/N: 39 reviews. 69 followers. 29 favorites. **Wow. You guys are awesome. Once again, thank you all for reviewing, following, and making this story one of your favorites.

So, someone is following this story with the name **ICameOnlyForClace**. I have to say I love that username. It's very honest and I feel that she or he may be friends with another reviewer that hinted the same: **heatherfda17.** Another shout out I would like to give is to **SkyAmberjade**. Thank you so much for the compliment. I thought of doing as you suggested, but I felt like that would be too expected. Another shout-out is to the guest **Ally**. I loved your review. I was amused by your last sentence: "fangirling over your fanfiction." I can honestly say I've never had anyone say that.**)**


	5. Simon

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 5

_Simon_

Clary sipped her coffee and ate the oatmeal her mom had made. She felt like she was eight again, eating her mother's oatmeal because it was the only thing she could keep down. Two years ago, the memory would have embarrassed her. Now, it just made her happy that she could even eat it again. As she swallowed down her coffee and oatmeal, her mind wandered back to the warning Magnus had issued three days ago. Today, she planned to tackle the least harmful of her friends: Simon Lewis. She would have done it two days ago, but her mother always had something they needed to do first like getting new sheets for the guest bedroom (which turned into a whole shopping event filled with frequent rest stops and clothing stores), investing in crutches so that she could have something to lean her weight on instead of her weight always being on her legs-mortifying by the way, or just redecorating her room. Clary had just come to the conclusion that she was going to have to sneak out.

She set her bowl and cup in the sink and hobbled back to her room on the crutches. Magnus had threatened to superglue them underneath her arms if she didn't at least use them around the house; after the chains, she wasn't going to doubt him. As she clomped down the hall, she could hear the shower running, letting her know that her mom wasn't out yet. She smiled, perfect. She felt a little guilty for doing this to her mother, but if she asked her-she would only redirect her attention. She grabbed her purse from her bed. She caught Luke in the hallway.

"You wanna give me a ride to Simon's?" She asked, knowing that Luke was on her side. He had tried to get Jocelyn to let her go many times, but Jocelyn always found a way to get her way. Clary really didn't want to know how.

"Sure," the shower's water cut off. They looked at one another wide eyed. Clary dropped the crutches onto the wall. Luke pushed her shoulder forward slightly. She ran the best she could for the front door while Luke scooped up the truck keys. They hit the front porch, laughing at the absurdity of it all. They were still chuckling as they got into the truck. Luke blew a kiss to his fiancé as they pulled out of the driveway. Clary twisted at the waist to watch her mother. The expression on her mom's face was hilarious. She looked torn between amusement and aggravation. "You understand why she has been the way she has, right?" Luke asked as they hit the road. Clary nodded.

"Yeah. I know she's afraid that I'll disappear again," Clary answered. Luke glanced over at her and nodded. "I get it, but they deserve to know that I'm okay, that I'm back. Hogging me is kind of being counterproductive." Luke chuckled, but it didn't sound as though his heart was fully in it. Clary looked over at him.

"When do you plan on seeing the Lightwoods again?" Her breathe caught in her throat as his question. She swallowed down the lump that had built in her throat.

"I…sometime in the next twelve days…" Luke glanced over at her. His look was somehow more scolding when over the rim of his glasses. She looked away from him and out the window. "I know…" She sighed. "I say that they deserve to know that I'm okay and then I say that…" She braced herself on the door as Luke took a sharp curve. "I'm just so afraid of seeing them again…" She finally admitted. She could feel Luke's eyes on her.

"What happened between the four of you?" He asked finally. "And don't tell me nothing." He warned. He had seen the pained expression that overtook her face when Jocelyn had said Jace's name that day. His and the names of the Lightwood children weren't spoken around her. The face had bothered Jocelyn too much, but Luke found that he needed to know. He needed to know whether or not he should like the boy anymore.

"We just…got into a fight." She muttered. _'Understatement of the century…' _She thought. "About my being in Idris. If they had told me from the beginning why they didn't want me-"

"You still wouldn't have listened," Luke said teasingly. Despite all of the emotions running rampant within her, a smile tugged onto her lips. She shrugged. Luke glanced over at her. They were on Simon's street now. He wanted to press her about the fight while he had the time, but he knew that he wouldn't get any more out of her about it. He sighed. _'I swear it's like pulling teeth...'_ He thought. He put the car in park in front of Simon's house.

"I'll call you after…I've told him everything…" she muttered. Luke nodded. As she put her hand on the handle, he darted forward quickly and kissed her cheek. Her eyes widened. She looked back to him. He smiled.

"Good luck." She laughed.

"This is Simon, dad," she said as she stepped out of the truck. Luke smiled slightly.

"Yeah. It is," he muttered as he watched her walk up the steps. "I just hope he lets you come home…" He muttered. Simon had missed her just as much as Jace had. He tried to hide his pain, but to the man who had known him his whole life? Impossible. There was a hole in Simon's life in the shape of Clary. And even though Isabelle Lightwood tried, it was a hole only Clary's return could fill. Luke put the car in drive with a sigh. "Time of go face the music…" He muttered. Not for the first time since they moved in together, Luke thanked his werewolf reflexes. If it weren't for them, he would have so many concussions from flying plates and skillets.

Clary walked up the familiar path to Simon's house. It looked as though no one was home. Neither Rebecca's nor Elaine's car were in the drive. _'Then again, maybe Rebecca's moved out…it has been two years after all…' _She thought as she walked onto the porch. She felt underneath the mat for their spare key and smiled when she found it. _'At least that hasn't changed…'_ She thought in amusement. She slipped the key into the lock and twisted it. The lock scrapped free. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

This place had been like her second home. She knew it inside and out. She walked into the kitchen first, purely out of habit. There was a note on the counter in Simon's handwriting. Her heart clenched as she picked it up.

_Mom,_

_Went out with Isabelle. I'll be back soon. _

–_Simon. _

Clary set it back down. _'Isabelle was there for him,'_ she thought with relief as she walked through the rest of the house. She knocked on Rebecca's door. Nothing. She moved onto Elaine's door. Again, she got no answer. She backtracked to Simon's bedroom. She opened the door and walked on in.

She walked over to the red lava lamp he'd had since third grade and turned it on. The weak light filled the room. The first thing that she noticed were Simon's mangas. They were covered in thin layer of dust. Her heart tightened. He hadn't been reading them; even some of the newer ones sat neglected. She sighed, _'Oh, Simon…'_ She went to his bed and sat down on the covers. The scent of him filled her nose.

"I missed you." She spoke quietly to the empty room as she crossed her legs. She looked around the room then, taking in the changes he had made. Number one was the refrigerator in the corner of the room. Two was a laptop computer. Three was the plasma screen television just in front of his bed. Four was the thick curtains that covered his bedroom windows. He still hadn't taken them down even though they had found out that the sun couldn't hurt him. Once her survey of the room was finished, she laid back on his bed. Without her consent, her eyes slipped closed. The familiar scent of her best friend and the feel of the pillow underneath her head lulled her to sleep.

* * *

"Magnus basically told Alec that this client was more important than Clary!" The outrage in Isabelle's voice was clear for him to hear. He propped his head onto his head and watched as she flailed her hand angrily. She would be flailing both of them if it weren't for his own hand holding one captive against the tabletop. He ran his thumb over her hand softly, hoping to calm some of her ire. "I thought Jace was going to go on a rampage!"

"I'm sure he didn't mean it like it sounded, Isabelle," Simon sighed. He had been trying to convince her of that for the past four days, but they always seemed to drift back to the topic. When he had first been told of it, he had been just as outraged as Isabelle. The days had given him some time to think though. Now, he just thought Isabelle was blowing it all out of proportion. Isabelle opened her mouth; Simon held up a hand, "did you ever think that this client could be dying like Alec was that night?" Her lips snapped closed. "Would you have liked for him to tell you that he had to go to a birthday party that night and that he couldn't be of any help?" The fire in her eyes was still burning so bright, but he could see that she was starting to understand. She shook her head. "Alright then. Give him a break." She sighed.

"Must you always do that?" She asked. Simon tilted his head. Isabelle leaned her chin onto her hand and leaned closer to him. Her long black hair brushed the side of the table. "You always have a logical answer for things. You won't let me…just be angry."

"What does anger solve?" Simon returned.

"Great makeup sex," Isabelle returned with a wide smile. Simon's cheeks flushed as he caught the incredulous look on the elderly lady's face a few seats away. He coughed and looked away from her.

"Yes, well…besides that," he muttered as he scratched the back of his neck. Isabelle laughed and squeezed his hand.

"You're just so adorable," she chuckled.

"Thanks," he nodded sarcastically, "just what I always wanted my girlfriend to call me." She smiled over the mouth of her Coke bottle. Amusement danced in her eyes. She set it down and looked at him seriously. Simon raised his eyebrows.

"Well, there are a list of other things I could call you. Do you want to hear them?" She trailed off teasingly. Her dark brown eyes held a mischievous glint that both terrified him and excited him.

"Can I answer both a yes and no?" He asked as he slid from the booth. She snorted.

"Are you afraid I'll embarrass you?" She teased as she stood from the booth. Simon looked over at her as they walked toward the door.

"Honestly, yes. We are in public after all. Names like the punisher should be saved for the bedroom…" Simon smirked as Isabelle stopped short. He looked up at her through the glass above the counter. Her eyes were wide and there was a pretty flush on her cheeks. He laughed and dutifully ignored the woman seated in front of the door. Isabelle caught up with him outside.

"You ass…" She stuttered. "I do not call you that in the bedroom."

"I know you don't," he returned. "But it was funny, huh?" He asked with a smirk. Isabelle rolled her eyes and shoved him. He laughed and came back to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders immediately. She chuckled and wrapped her arm around his waist.

For the moment, they were both distracted from the pain and guilt that haunted them. They parted ways at the crossing. He walked toward his house while she walked back to the Institute. As he walked, he tried not to think of Clary, but she was always there. He passed by the park that they used to play in as kids and for a minute he could have sworn he heard her giggling. He closed his eyes and breathed out.

_'God, how much I miss you, Clary…'_ He thought. He mounted the steps of his house with ease. He went to unlock the door only to find it already open. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back to look in the driveway. His sister and mother were still gone. He looked back toward the front door. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. His entire body was tense and ready for a fight.

Ever since Alicante, demons and Downworlders alike had been after him. He wouldn't put it past one of them to break into his home. Slowly, he stalked through the house. Finally, he reached his room. He could hear a solitary heart beat beating slowly behind his door. He held his breathe and pushed it open. He leapt in the direction of the heartbeat. His claws fully extended ready to rip the jugular out of the person who dared enter his home unannounced. The lava lamp was jerked out the wall and hurled at him suddenly. The person had impeccable aim. The slightly hot lamp smacked him in the face and dropped him to the floor. He moved to jump to his feet when a voice called out through the darkness.

"Jesus, Simon. Is this how you greet all of your guests now?" He froze. The question was quiet, but he swore it sounded like…

"C-Cl-Clary?" He stuttered. He laid on the floor, afraid to sit up. Vaguely, he wondered if this was another dream. Had he fallen asleep at his date with Isabelle? _'Lord, I hope not…'_ He thought. _'She'll kill me if I did. If it is a dream…it certainly started off weird. I've never tried to kill her before…'_ The overhead light flicked on suddenly. He closed his eyes instantly and hissed at the brightness.

"Sorry." His eyes popped open as her voice sounded again. She stood over him, pushing a long, red curl behind her ear. "Not all of us can see in the dark, you know." He stared up at her. She smiled sadly. If this was a dream, it was strangely detailed. He could see every light freckle on her cheeks, the many shades of green in her eyes, the many shades of red in her curls. Her hair was longer, he realized. It was at her waist. She tilted her head at him. She sank to her knees just above his head. "Are you okay? Did I scramble something with the lamp?" She leaned over slightly to look into his eyes. Her red curls curtained around him. It was then that he smelled it. Strawberries and the faint smell of roses. Even in his dreams, he couldn't capture that scent.

"It's you…really you…" He breathed. Clary's brows furrowed worriedly.

"Yeah…you're just now figuring that out? Isn't your brain supposed to be faster or something?" Simon pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"Faster, yes, but I haven't seen you in two years. That and you clocked me in the face with a lamp. So, you'll have to excuse me if it's kind of addled." Clary moved back to avoid an awkward situation.

"Well, you were the one leaping for the jugular," she muttered. He turned himself around so that he faced her. Clary stared at him. He stared at her. It was as if he was drinking the sight of her in. She shifted off of her knees and crossed her legs. She laid her hands on her ankles. She had a feeling they would be sitting here for a while if she waited for him to ask questions. "So, I haven't visited you because I've been in a coma for two years." That did it. He stopped staring. Now, he was gaping.

"What?" He breathed; she had no idea someone could pack so much horror in one word. Clary smiled at him and began at the walk back from Ragnor Fell's. Like with her parents, Isaac, and Adele, she left out how she had gotten Sebastian's blade from him and the finding the angel.

"So, that's it," she finished with a small slap to her ankles. "What have you been doing for the past two years?" She asked airily, praying that he wouldn't ask questions.

"Wait, wait, wait," Simon flailed his hands about in a windshield wiper motion in different directions, "you can't just breeze right by that as if it was nothing. You fought Sebastian Verlac…who really was Johnathan Morgenstern, your older brother?" She nodded. "How did you win?" He breathed. Clary looked down at her ankles to hide the hurt in her eyes.

"I used A&P against him. I cut the main arteries in his thighs and arm. Despite the Amissio rune, he still lost a lot of blood. It was the only way I could think of to slow him down, to even the playing field so to speak. He was wicked fast. I never thought in a million years that I would walk away from him..." Simon paled as the meaning of those words sank in. He pulled her hands away from her ankles and held on tightly. He looked at her bowed head for a minute before jerking her hands. She gasped sharply as her body vaulted forward. Simon wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her close. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She moved her legs about so that the position was more comfortable.

"I missed you so much…" Simon whispered into her hair. She felt the wetness from his tears on her shoulder. She hugged him closer.

"I missed you too…" She whispered.

After many minutes of sitting like that, Simon finally spoke again, "you realize that I'll never be on your level of bad-assedness now right?" She snorted.

"I'm fairly certain being a vampire already puts you above me," she returned as he loosened his arms. He trailed his hand down her arm and captured her hand. They sat across from each other on the floor again. He shook his head.

"Nope. You defeated a Shadowhunter on Jace's level without as many runes and any real training. That officially makes you more badass than a vampire. Possibly even more badass than Jace himself."

"You realize you just complimented him in a roundabout way, right?" She pointed out with a skeptical raise of her brows. Simon shrugged.

"I've come to develop a grudging respect for him," Simon said. Suddenly, the teasing air became serious. Clary tensed as Simon's brown eyes stared into hers. "Have you been to see him yet?" Clary shook her head and looked away from him.

"I'm honestly trying to put it off as much as possible…" She muttered. She could practically feel the disappointment coming off of him. He slipped a finger underneath her chin. He pulled her face back to him and forced her to meet his eyes. The look in his brown eyes was intense. She rambled, "I still have twelve days left…so I'm probably going to go on the eleventh day…"

"Clary." He called. Dread pooled in her stomach as she thought of everything he was going to say. She didn't want to hear how Jace was doing or that's what she told herself.

"I would have come to you two days ago," she kept on, "but mom kept coming up with all of these excuses to keep me in the house-" He covered her mouth with his hand.

"Stop. I don't know what all was said that day, Clary, but I do know what Jace is without you." She pleaded him with her eyes not to tell her this, but Simon ignored her plea. She had to know. "He's a man burning, Clary. Isabelle told me he just sits in his room. Only coming out to hunt or eat or beat the hell out of a punching bag in the training room," the images rose into her mind. Jace sitting on his bed, head bowed into his hands. Golden hair pulled tightly back in his hands. Jaw jumping as he fought the tears. She clenched her jaw and blinked to banish the image, but the sting still remained.

"_I don't think Jace has left the Penhallows' since they got here. He mostly seems to be skulking in his room. He hurt his hand pretty badly yesterday too-" _Sebastian's words from so long ago rose into her mind. She recalled how kind he had been to her and then how vicious he had seemed in that clearing. Even though she knew now that Sebastian was Johnathan, the two images were still hard to mesh together. She supposed in a way that the difficulty spoke of his talent in manipulation and his ability to charm. _'He really is Valentine's son…'_ She thought. It had never escaped her notice that she had never allied herself with Valentine in any way though he was her father. She didn't consider herself his daughter. It was always _Jocelyn's_ daughter.

She was unaware that Simon had stopped talking. He was staring at her, waiting for her to come back to him. As he waited, he couldn't help but recall the far out look on Jocelyn's face from days before. Like Clary now, the world had fallen away for Jocelyn. She didn't see anyone else. It was ironic, he supposed. He had never noticed that Jocelyn had the same habit before Clary's disappearance; maybe that was because he had never really been close to Jocelyn-all she had ever been was his best friend's mom. Now, he knew her like he knew his own mother. She had cried on his shoulder. She had bared her soul to him in a moment of weakness. The two years of hell had been good for something. Now, Simon knew how to bring Clary out of it because he had watched Luke. He slapped her hand lightly. She blinked once, twice then turned to him and gave him that sheepish, apologetic smile she often did after drifting away. Simon didn't smile back; he couldn't. Not when tears shown like diamonds on her eyelashes. He knew that his words would hurt her, but he forced himself to continue. To make her understand that she couldn't put off seeing him, seeing all of them.

"The first time I've really seen him in over a year was four days ago. He's a shell of who he was." The diamonds fell from her eyelashes and ran down her cheeks. "It doesn't look like he's eating or sleeping properly," he said quietly as he moved to wipe the tears off of her cheeks. She blinked. She hadn't even realized she was crying. "You have to go see him…all of them. Isabelle and Alec aren't doing too hot either. Isabelle tries to hide it, but I know she spends most of her time blaming herself for not following you. Alec…well…it's hard to tell with him, but I do know that he searched for you too."

"Magnus told me I had two weeks to tell them before he did it for me…" She whispered. "I've been awake for all of four days." Simon couldn't tell if she resented Magnus for pushing her to see them all so soon or not, but he did hear the affection she held for the warlock in her voice. An affection that he didn't think had been there before. Belatedly, he focused on her words. Four days ago…that was…"It's ironic, isn't it? That Isaac would find Magnus on my birthday?"

"Yeah, it kind of is," Simon stated. As he pondered the coincidence, Clary folded her legs from underneath her and stood up. She stretched wide, relishing in the small pops and cracks her body gave. She lowered her arms slowly as something on the wall caught her eye. She wandered closer to it as Simon stood up behind her. It was a picture of Isabelle and Simon. They stood side by side in front of the East River. Simon had one arm around Isabelle's waist while she had one hand resting on his shoulder. She was looking at the camera while he was looking right at her. His brown eyes were filled with love. His brown eyes were crinkled just as Valentine's had been when he was looking at her mother. He had the look of a man completely enraptured with the woman at his side. Longing blossomed inside her chest. Two years ago, she had wished that a man would look at her that way. Now, she just wished for Jace. She spun away from the photo quickly.

"I've got to go call mom and let her know where I am," Simon tore his eyes away from the picture, away from Isabelle as soon as Clary started talking, "Luke and I kind of escaped." She said it so unashamedly that he couldn't help but laugh. "I hope she hasn't flayed him alive or beat him to death with a skillet…" He snorted. Despite the amusement he felt, he knew just how possible that was. He had seen Jocelyn's anger first hand over the years.

"She's being clingy huh?" He asked. Clary looked over at him with a slight incredulous expression. He held up his hands. "You've been missing for two years. It's understandable. I'm probably going to turn into the undead kola, just a fair warning." Clary laughed.

"A vampire kola? Seriously?" She asked.

"They were the only animals I could think of that cling to stuff," he muttered as Clary turned toward the door. She chuckled as she walked out. Simon couldn't help but follow her. Clary could hear him walking behind her and sighed. Luke and her mom had done this too. For two days. Everywhere she went-except the bathroom-they would peak in on her or just downright follow her. Still, she couldn't bring herself to be annoyed with them. She looked at Simon as she dialed Luke's home phone. Her mother picked up after the first ring.

_"You didn't have to escape, you know_," her mother greeted. Clary blinked.

"Are you pouting?" She chuckled. Simon's mouth fell open. "She's definitely pouting." She mouthed to Simon.

"My daughter just ran off with my fiancé…" Clary wrinkled her nose. "Okay, that sounded wrong and totally not in the way I meant it. Because I was being overbearing-as Luke put it…"

"Oh god…he's still alive right?"

_"Nursing a headache." _Her mother said without a hint of remorse. _"I didn't hit him with anything." _She added. _"I just smacked in the back of the head with my hand. Nothing damaging. You have to promise to tell me when I'm suffocating you, Clary…I don't want to push you away…" _Clary's eyes softened. She held the phone closer.

"Mom…you aren't going to push me away and I can breathe fine. I get it. Really I do. I've been missing for two years and it's put you through hell. But it's put them through hell too. Don't they deserve to know that I'm here?"

_"They do…"_ She admitted. _"I'm just…afraid they'll hog you."_ Clary bit into her bottom lip to stop the laugh that threatened to bubble up.

"Mom," she started.

_ "I know, I know. I can't hog you either. Luke's already gave me the lecture about how I have to let you have wings and all that. Can't you just…keep them folded in for a while?"_ This time Clary couldn't stop the laugh.

"Mom, seriously. I'm not going to fly away…We just may have a fuller house than usual." She added.

_"I can live with that_," her mother muttered.

"Thought so," Clary said. The conversation wrapped up after that. Clary hung the phone up and set it back down on the charger. "So, we've got," she glanced down at her watch, "four hours before I have to be back home. What do you want to do?"

"First, you can help me pack a bag," Simon said, "because I'm claiming the guest room across from yours for the next week or so." Clary laughed. Simon's expression was serious though his eyes were anything but. "I'm not kidding."

"What about Isabelle?" Clary asked. Simon froze mid-step and frowned. If he just left without letting her know, she would hunt him down.

"I know you want to do this on your own terms…so I'll just tell her that I'm staying with Eric because my room is being remodeled," Simon shrugged as if lying to his girlfriend didn't bother him in the slightest. "We always meet at the places so she'll really have no reason to check my story."

"Remodeled?" Clary questioned, "Why remodeled?"

"She's always fussing about how my room looks. It'll appease her long enough."

As Clary helped him pack a bag, she couldn't help but marvel at how easy it had been to fall back into their friendship. Simon, it seemed, hadn't changed much in her absence. He was still just as sarcastic and snarky as he had been the day she left for Alicante.

"What have you been up to for the past two years?" She asked as she folded one of his shirts. Simon looked up from his dresser.

"Oh you know, escaping prison in Alicante, getting involved in a battle with demons. Did you know your mother is quite the speaker?" Clary was stuck on the first part.

"Go back to the beginning," she said. "Why in the hell were you in Alicante and _in jail_?" He scratched the back of his neck and started at Jace's phone call that landed him at the back of the Institute. Clary sank down on the bed once he was finished. He lifted the duffle off of his bed and sank down beside her.

"Are you okay?" He asked. She blinked at his wall.

"I've missed so much…" She muttered. Simon couldn't argue with her. He did however say.

"I think you taking out Sebastian in that clearing helped us," she hated the callous way he said it. "Without him, Valentine didn't have what he needed most. I think Sebastian was supposed to get a sacrifice for him. When he left to try and get one himself, he walked straight into an ambush. It had been your mom's idea. She knew that he would go looking for one himself. He didn't trust anyone else to do it for him. She split the forces. A group of highly trained Shadowhunters killed Valentine while another group aided the Downworlders in the fight against the demons. Without anyone to lead them, they just kind of retreated."

"Convenient…" Clary muttered. "How did Mom get all of them to bind together?"

"You aren't the only one that knows the language of the angels. Your mother does too." Clary blinked. It made sense, she supposed. Her mother had been given the angel blood as well. She nodded.

"She created a rune…" Clary guessed. Simon nodded.

"It was a lot like the parabatai rune Jace and Alec have," Simon said. Clary studied Simon's exposed skin. He laughed. "It faded away over time."

"Who were you bound too?" Clary asked, even though she had a feeling she knew the answer.

"Jace," Simon said. Clary blinked. She had thought for sure that it had been Isabelle.

"That…had to be interesting…" She said slowly. Simon snorted.

"You have no idea."

* * *

Clary felt the bed dip down. She opened her eyes and turned over to see Simon sitting at the edge of her bed. She glanced then toward the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was two a.m. She frowned and rolled back over.

"Si? Something wrong?" She asked. Simon snorted and laid down next to her. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then just as she was beginning to worry, he spoke.

"For the past two years, I've seen you in my dreams. They always feature you coming home to me. My house was always the place you came to first." He looked over at her. His brown eyes met her green. "Every day, I woke up and realized each time that it was all a dream." Clary reached over and placed her hand on his. She slipped her fingers underneath his hand and squeezed. He curled his hand over hers.

"I thought about you every day," Clary whispered. "I never let myself forget anything." Simon smiled slightly.

"What's my favorite color?" He asked as he rolled onto his side. Clary laughed.

"Black," she answered easily. He nodded.

"What's my favorite anime?"

"Trick question, it changes often."

The night continued on with what Clary had mentally dubbed the "Simon Lewis Quiz" until they fell asleep, side by side.


	6. The Institute

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 6

_The Institute_

Jocelyn went to her daughter's door at five a.m. just to reassure herself. She peeked in through the open door and smiled. It was like she had been transported back three years. Simon and Clary lay side by side on the bed. Their hands twined together in between them.

_Jocelyn gasped as she walked into her daughter's bedroom. Simon Lewis lay underneath the covers with her daughter. Instantly, she feared the worst. "What the hell is going on in here?!" She demanded. Clary and Simon jerked awake. Simon hit the floor, taking the covers with him. She caught sight of his pant leg and the strange character shirt he had been wearing the day before. Clary sat up and looked over the edge of the bed for a moment before turning her sleepy eyes back to her mother. Her daughter still wore her sleep clothes. A baggy grey T-shirt two sizes too large and a pair of black sleep pants. "Oh." Jocelyn muttered. Simon sat up at that moment and corrected his glasses. _

_ "Wait…" Clary muttered. Her voice still thick with sleep was giving away to comprehension. "You thought…" She looked down at Simon and back to her mother. Clary's cheeks flushed as she laughed. "No. No. God, no. Mom. We were just sleeping!" _

_ "Geez, Clary, tone down the disgust a little bit," Simon muttered as he detangled himself from the cover. His cheeks were red and he avoided looking at either Clary or her. Jocelyn instantly felt horrible for putting him in that position. Once again, he had been reminded that Clary didn't feel the same way. Like Elaine, she knew a broken heart was inevitable. _

_ "Sorry," Clary apologized. _

Jocelyn turned away from them and walked back down the hallway. Luke sat at the table already. Her black coffee cup sat on the table, ready for her. She smiled and picked it up. Luke looked away from his paper and smiled back.

"So, I noticed Simon wasn't on the couch…" Luke started. Jocelyn chuckled.

"Yeah, he slipped into Clary's room at some point during the night." Luke chuckled.

"Just like old times, huh?" He asked. She nodded.

"Just like old times," she whispered. She sighed and recalled the mature, haunted shine in her daughter's eyes. The innocence she had tried so hard to protect had been stripped from her. The quiet of her voice when she spoke and the way her legs shook just from the walk up the driveway spoke of the vegetative state she had been in. Jocelyn sank down in the chair across from her fiancé. "Except not…" Luke turned his brown eyes to her and set the paper down. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand in his. He ran his thumb over her palm as he spoke.

"She just needs time," Luke told her. Jocelyn looked up at him. "And support. Which she has in spades. Simon, Isaac, Adele, me, and you. And I'm sure when she goes to see Jace and the others, they'll be here too."

* * *

Jace held the bandage in place with his thumb and wrapped the other end round and round his hand. Clary's green eyes filled with hurt at his words flashed into his mind. He grit his teeth and pulled the bandage tight. He vaulted up from the bench and walked to the punching bag in the corner of the room. He rolled his shoulders and looked at the bag.

Clary's eyes filled with tears she refused to let shed. He threw a punch at the bag. It recoiled. He thought of his cruel words.

"_You__** destroyed**__ her,"_ he recalled Isabelle's words. _"Did you see her face?"_

'_Yes, yes, yes. God, yes…'_ He thought as he side stepped the bag's swinging back. He shoved his elbow into it. The bag jerked and bounced. Her face, that face, had been scarred into his brain since the day she disappeared. He punched the bag as it came back to him, it halted. Only to swing away from him again as he threw another punch into the center. He side stepped the bag again. He knew she wouldn't be fine when he uttered those words. _'Those were the last words I ever said to her.' _His hands ached from the force of his punches, but he didn't stop. _'She disappeared thinking I hated her.'_ He threw punch after punch. Occasionally, his strikes were interrupted by a vicious uppercut that made the bag jump upward. He was so involved that he was unaware of his audience, unaware of his bleeding hands.

Alec leaned against the door and watched his parabatai beat the bag. The sound of Jace's strikes against the bag, the creaking of the chain that supported the poor bag had drew his attention to the room. He could see the blood spreading on the bandages he had wrapped around his hands. He sighed and wondered if Jace would let him heal his hands this time.

_ "Does it help?" He asked his parabatai as he set his stele to Jace's wrist. He glanced up at him. Jace wasn't looking at him. He was looking somewhere far away. "Does damaging yourself like this make you feel better?" _

_ "Does it matter?" Jace returned. His voice was low; his tone filled with pain. Alec knew the pain he felt wasn't physical. His heart ached for his parabatai. _

_ "Your welfare matters to me," Alec returned. "And I know it would matter to Clary too." He knew it was a below the belt hit. He could see it in the way Jace looked at him. Alec looked away as if not looking would make the guilt go away._ _'I'm sorry,'_ _he thought,_ _'but if low blows are the only way to get you take care of yourself more then so be it.' _

It had worked, but only just. Jace tried and that's all Alec could really ask of him. He sighed. The only way Jace would fully be whole again was if Clary was found. It was like she had punched a hole in all of their lives when she vanished. He leaned back against the archway. _'You never know what you have until it's gone,' _he thought. _'I suppose it's true.'_ After all, he hadn't known Clary was so important to him until she disappeared. He hadn't known that he would miss her.

* * *

Isaac couldn't stop glancing over at the vampire who sat so obviously in the sun. It was mind blowing. Adele was unbothered by it. She simply sat across from him, talking animatedly. It was almost like he thought he was human, like he didn't realize how drastically his life had changed.

"Keep staring at him like that and I'm going to start to wonder about your sexual orientation," Clary deadpanned from beside him. He looked over at her now and raised an eyebrow. She peered up at him from her book.

"You attract all kinds, don't you?" He returned. She tilted her head at him and closed her book. "A werewolf and a vampire."

"You're forgetting the most amazing warlock in history," Magnus drawled as he walked into the living room. "I'm almost insulted." Isaac rolled his eyes. Clary snorted and returned her eyes to her book so that she wouldn't have to look at Magnus' questioning yellow eyes. Isaac and Adele had arrived around nine. Magnus had shown up a few minutes ago. She knew that he was here to check up on her progress. She was trying to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. He didn't allow her distraction for long. "Clarissa," he spoke. She looked away from her book. "May I speak with you?" Even though he voiced it as a question, she could hear the demand. She closed her book and stood from the couch. He followed her from the living room and into her bedroom. He shut the door behind them and crossed his arms over his chest. She sat down in the middle of her bed and crossed her legs.

"I'm going to go see them today," she said as she wrapped her hands around her ankles. "You can stop with the disapproving stare now." Magnus sighed and sat down on the bed beside her. He looked over at her.

"I know I'm pushing you, but I can't say that I'm sorry." He looked away from her. Clary relaxed her grip on her ankles. She opened her mouth to say that she understood, but Magnus continued. "I've watched Alec run himself into the ground trying to find you." Shock caused her lips to fall open. Simon had told her that Alec had aided them, but she had no idea that he went searching for her on his own. "I've watched him chase lead after lead. Each time a lead would fall flat…he would come to me. His shoulders slumped, defeat following him around like a cloud for days…" He looked over at her now. "I'm not going to let something as small as your fear get in the way of stopping their pain." Clary reached across the distance and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand, Magnus," she told him softly. "I'm sorry you've had to witness it all…" Magnus chuckled drily and laid a hand over hers. "And I'm sorry that my reluctance has caused problems in your relationship…"

"You couldn't help that you were missing," he told her; amusement leaking into his tone. "And don't worry about Alec and me. We'll be fine. The make-up sex from this will be amazing." Clary scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

"Too much information, Magnus," she said. He grinned and shrugged one shoulder.

* * *

She got the taxi to drop her off a few feet from the Institute. She knew that Adele would frown on the distance, but she needed the time to gather her courage. She'd rest her legs in the elevator. As the taxi pulled away, she began to walk.

First, she thought of Alec. He had been open in his dislike of her, but it had faded into some sort of respect over time. Aside from little Max, she could probably talk to him the easiest. He hadn't hurt her.

As she passed the Institute gate, she thought of Isabelle. Isabelle had lashed out at her in anger. After much review, Clary realized why. She had wanted to save Clary from the pain of seeing Aline and Jace. She had more than likely knew that Jace had taken Aline upstairs. Clary pressed her hand to the doors of the Institute. She heard the lock sliding against the doors. She took a deep breath as the latch released. She pushed open the door and closed it behind her.

She sank down onto the floor of the elevator the minute it jerked upward. She pulled her legs up to her chest and crossed her arms. Lastly, there was Jace. He had only wanted to protect her, she saw that now; but it didn't make it alright. He could have been honest with her; he could have told her that the Clave would want to use her as a weapon, possibly even experiment on her. He didn't have to destroy her like that, but…she could have trusted him more. She could have trusted him to help her, to save her mother. She set her head down onto her knees. The bottom line was they were both at fault. Still, even lower than that line was the fact that he had hurt her. He had aimed to hurt her. She sighed. _'Now we are full circle…'_ she thought miserably. The elevator came to a stop. She grabbed ahold of the bar and pulled herself into standing. Church stared up at her from the floor. He blinked his cat eyes and meowed. Her eyes widened as he stepped forward and rubbed against her leg.

"Hey, Church," she greeted him as she reached down and scratched behind his ear. He purred. She smiled. "Anyone here?" The cat rubbed her leg one last time before trotting off down the hallway. She followed him. He stopped in the hall suddenly.

Max rounded the corner and froze. Red curls, green eyes, short figure. Clary. His grey eyes widened. "Clary!" He exclaimed. Her eyes widened as he launched himself over Church and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. Clary smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Hey, Max," she greeted quietly. He stepped back. His grey eyes were bright as he pushed up his glasses. At twelve, he was the same size as her. She frowned. He grinned.

"You're back!" He stated. Clary nodded. "I can't wait to tell Jace and the others. Mainly Jace though cause, boy, has he missed you!" Despite the clenching of her heart, she couldn't help but smile. He was practically bouncing on his heels. She bit into her bottom lip.

"Where are the others exactly?" She asked. Max tugged on her hand to get her moving. She recognized the direction they were headed in. It was where she first really spoke to Isabelle: the kitchen.

"Mom and dad are in Idris on business. Jace, Alec, and Isabelle are out," Max explained. He looked over at her. "Looking for you." He added quietly. Clary swallowed. The sadness in his grey eyes shifted back to excitement. He grinned. "They are in for such a surprise." She chuckled and let him pull her into the kitchen.

"So, you're here alone," Clary stated easily. Church jumped up onto the counter. "Except for Church." She added as the grey cat stretched out on the counter. Max's expression turned exasperated.

"I'm old enough to be in the house on my own!" He lifted his left hand suddenly. "See? I've got my first mark!" He said proudly. She scratched her own Voyance rune.

"Oh yeah? You know how to cook?" She asked. Max blushed. He looked away and mumbled a quiet no. She thought she heard him mumble something about Isabelle not knowing how either. She chuckled. "Come on," she said as she walked toward the stove, "I'll give you a small lesson if you show me where everything is." He looked at her warily, but stepped forward to help her anyway.

"I hope you cook better than Isabelle…" He muttered as she filled the pan they had found with water. She laughed. She was about to say something when she noticed the contemplative look Max was giving her.

"What?" She asked. Max shifted onto his foot.

"Where have you been and are you okay?" He asked. Clary's eyes softened at the question.

"I've been in a coma for two years, Max," his grey eyes widened. She smiled teasingly as she put the pan on the eye and turned the stove on. "You think I would willing leave my manga buddy?" She asked, slightly serious. Max smiled; there was a small blush on his cheeks. "After all, I did promise to take you to that manga shop, didn't I?" Excitement lit in Max's eyes.

"Yeah, you did," he said with a wide smile. She returned his smile. Once she had voiced her idea to cook spaghetti, he had found the tomato sauce for her and the noodles.

"Thank you for being my helper," she said as she turned from the stove and leaned against the counter beside it. Max smiled.

"I'm just glad that you're here," he admitted quietly. "Now everyone can cheer up." Clary smiled sadly. She reached across the counter and promptly ruffled his hair. He yelled out in protest and smacked her hand away. She grinned.

'_Definitely a little Simon,'_ she thought fondly. He glared at her and pushed his glasses up his nose. She just grinned wider. He rolled his eyes and smoothed his hair down. She chuckled and turned back to the boiling water. She snapped the spaghetti noodles in half and dropped them into the water.

"What have you been up to these two years besides sprouting like a weed?" She asked. Max laughed.

"It's not my fault you're short!" He reminded her. "I've started my training." He said proudly. She listened attentively as he started to tell her how Alec, Jace, and his dad took turns training him. She imagined Jace standing there, showing him how to hold the seraph blade. His golden eyes shining with affection and surprising patience. Longing swelled up within her again. She bit into her bottom lip and beat it down. "This one time a training session with Alec and Jace turned into a wrestling match. They had started arguing over who was the best with a seraph blade and it just escalated from there."

"Were they trying to teach you how to use a seraph blade?" She asked as she stirred the noodles to check their readiness. Max shook his head then he remembered that she couldn't see him.

"No, they just veered off topic. They had been coaching me through walking on the rafters." Clary couldn't help it; she paled. Max saw her face. "You're kidding me!" He gasped. "You're afraid of heights?!" She glared at him and pointed the spoon at him.

"You try getting jerked off of the hood of a truck by a flying demon and tell me how you feel after that…" Max's eyes shined suddenly with excitement. She realized what she had said and backtracked, "Wait. Don't try that," she waved the spoon back and forth as she spoke, "don't ever try that." Max dissolved into laughter. His laughter was contagious. Soon, the room was filled with good natured laughter. They couldn't look at one another without setting another round off. Meanwhile, Church just sat on the counter staring at the two humans like they had lost their minds.

* * *

Jace, Isabelle, and Alec rode in silence up the elevator. Five p.m. shined at her from her watch. They had been out following that one lead for two hours. Isabelle glanced over at her brothers. The defeat seemed to weigh down on both of them. She leaned her head back on the elevator wall and stared up at the light.

_ 'Clary, where are you?' _She wondered. Jace slid the gate to the elevator open. It was here that they veered off to their personal spaces. Alec, she knew, was heading to his room; Jace was more than likely heading to the training room; and she was heading to the kitchen to get some ice cream. Chocolate ice cream was the second best for depressing situations; the first was obviously cookie dough. It was as she was walking toward the kitchen that she smelt something delicious. _'Mom and dad must have come home,_' she thought as she walked closer to the kitchen. She peaked into the kitchen, expecting to see her mom standing at the stove; but what she really saw caused her to freeze in place. A redhead flicked off the stove eye. Her curls cascaded down to brush the small of her back. Max doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with the young woman. In fact, he was talking to her as if she were a long lost friend. The woman picked up a bowl and filled it with spaghetti. She turned to Max. The position of the stove and Max's seat caused her back to still face away from Isabelle. She set the bowl in front of Max.

"Eat up," her voice was quiet, but so familiar. Isabelle stepped further into the room. Her heart was pounding in her chest. _'No way…' _She thought. _'It's too good to be true…We were just out looking for you!'_ She turned and gave Isabelle a view of the side of her face. She crossed her arms onto the counter and leaned forward. Those familiar green eyes snapped her out of her shock. It was really her!

"Clary!" Isabelle exclaimed. The woman owning the name jumped and looked over at the kitchen archway. Max stopped mid-chew. His expression was suddenly guilty. Isabelle paid him no mind. She walked forward slowly as if expecting Clary to disappear if she moved to quickly. Isabelle's dark brown eyes filled with tears as Clary shifted onto her left foot.

"Isabelle…" Clary said quietly. Her green eyes took in the pale expression on the dark headed beauty's face. Worry raged within her suddenly. "You aren't going into shoc-umph!" Isabelle hit the smaller girl like a freight train before she could finish her question. Her arms locked tightly around Clary's waist. Clary's hands flailed slightly at her sides before she wrapped her hands around Isabelle's shoulders. It was then that she noticed Isabelle's shoulders were shaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I didn't stand up for you. I'm sorry that I didn't chase after you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Isabelle sobbed. Clary's eyes filled up with tears. The lingering hurt she had felt at Isabelle's words washed away with her tears. Now, all she could think about was soothing her friend's pain. She moved her hands from Isabelle's shoulders to her biceps. She pushed her back gently and looked into Isabelle's dark brown eyes. Tears were streaking down her cheeks.

"I'm glad you didn't, Isabelle," she said softly. "If you had, you probably wouldn't be here." Isabelle wiped her eyes viciously with the back of her hand.

"What do you mean?" Clary sighed and began to tell Isabelle her story.

"After I left the Penhallows-" Isabelle stood up from the bar stool suddenly.

"Hang on, let me go g-" Clary knew her intention before she even finished her sentence. Fear and panic filled her. She vaulted up from her seat and grabbed Isabelle's wrist.

"Wait, please!" She exclaimed. Isabelle stopped and looked down at the hand on her wrist before looking up at Clary. Shock was clear in her dark brown eyes.

"I'm just going to go get-" she tried to explain.

"I know, but please…don't." Isabelle's brow furrowed. She stared into Clary's green eyes intensely. The fear and pleading she found there caused her to ease back down onto the barstool. Her mind was racing with questions. The main one being why. Why did Clary not want to tell the story to all of them? It would save her time. As if reading her mind, Clary said, "I want to do this one at a time. Otherwise…I don't know if I'll be able to get through it."

"Okay…" Isabelle agreed. Clary sighed and continued her story. Once again, leaving out the angel and how she got the blade from Sebastian. It was bad enough that she knew of her shame. When she was finished both Max and Isabelle wrapped their arms around her. She felt Isabelle running her fingers through her curls. After a few minutes, they released her. "Who do you want to see next?" Isabelle asked as she linked her fingers in front of her.

"Alec," Clary muttered. She avoided Isabelle's eyes. She knew she would see disappointment and sadness. She heard Isabelle sigh, but she didn't glance up.

Isabelle understood Clary's reluctance to see Jace, but that irrational annoyance swelled up within her. Jace's empty golden eyes—only truly lively during a battle—haunted everyone in the Institute even her mother and father. It was like, without Clary, he was half a man. There had been times when Isabelle wished they had never met Clary in that club; then the guilt of even thinking it would threaten to crush her. Isabelle glanced back at Clary, who sat with her ankles crossed on the barstool next to Max. _'She made Jace better before; I'm certain she can do it again…'_ Isabelle acknowledged, but the fear and panic she had seen in Clary's eyes haunted her. She knew that all of that fear and panic wasn't because of Alec in any way. It was because of Jace. _'Those words, the way he talked to her still haunt her. That's clear enough to see and she's had two years to stew in that hurt. Will she really want anything to do with him anymore?' _Isabelle shook her head rapidly as if it could shake the thought away. Clary looked over at her and raised her red eyebrows. _'This is Clary!'_ She reminded herself. _'She snuck into Idris and broke more than enough laws for a woman who had lied to her for her whole life. She walked into a vampire's lair-filled with hundreds-just to save her best friend. She practically told her father to go fuck himself for Luke and Jace. And then, even after all finding out they were brother and sister, she still loved him. This should look like a minor pebble compared to the stepping stones they've had to hurdle!'_

"Let me show you to his room," she said finally as she slipped from the barstool. Clary blinked as Isabelle took her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen exit. Clary glanced back at Max. He smiled encouragingly at her.

"See you soon, Clary!" Max said as he returned to his spaghetti. "This really is delicious…" He muttered as Clary's red curls disappeared out into the hallway.

Clary stumbled to keep up with Isabelle's brisk walk. She could already feel the burn starting and knew that the shaking would be close behind. She bit into her bottom lip. _'I suppose I shouldn't have stood the entire time in the kitchen…' _She thought.

"Isabelle!" Clary called for her attention. "Can you slow down?" She asked. Isabelle slowed instantly. A small flush rose onto her cheeks. The pain in Clary's legs receded slightly, but they didn't stop the vigorous shaking. Isabelle noticed and instantly felt ashamed.

"Sorry…" Isabelle whispered. "I just want you to…"

"Get Alec over with?" Clary finished for her.

"I know…it's awful, right?" She asked rhetorically.

"No, I get it. You've lived with him these past two years. You've seen what this is doing to him," Clary said. Isabelle's eyebrows furrowed; then there was a look of recognition in her eyes. 'Why didn't she just say Jace?' Isabelle wondered as she looked over at the redhead who was staring at a painting on the wall of the Mortal Cup. _'Is it because saying his name is too painful or…does she hate him now like he had thought she would?' _Clary's green eyes moved down the painting, resting for a moment on the angel, Raziel who clutched the Mortal Cup in his hand. _'If that's true…then what's keeping her here? Will she leave right after talking to them?' _

"Clary," Isabelle called. Clary turned her eyes away from the Sword in Raziel's hand to see Isabelle's dark brown eyes staring at her.

"Yeah?" Clary asked.

"After you talk to Jace and Alec come find me," Isabelle said. "I'll be in the library." Clary blinked and nodded.

"Okay…" She agreed easily. Isabelle pointed toward the room they now stood in front of.

"This is Alec's room," she said before walking away. Curiosity raged in her as she watched Isabelle walk away. Clary looked back toward the wood and raised a shaking hand. She tightened her fist.

'_This is just Alec.'_ She reminded herself as she brought her fist down on the door in a light knock. _'Remember? You were dying to talk to him a few minutes ago because you thought him the easiest.' _

"Come in," she heard his familiar voice say. She lowered her hand to the knob. Maybe she should give him so type of warning. She bit into her bottom lip and wet her lips, readying to say something. What kind of warning would you give someone in this situation? She sighed. There wasn't one. So, she just said.

"Okay…" And twisted the knob. She looked through the crack as she pushed it open. Alec's room was very different from Jace's empty, clean room. Alec had pictures of his family up on the blue walls. She let her eyes roam onto the pictures. There was one of a younger Max-maybe at seven-sitting atop Jace's shoulders. Max was looking down at Jace who was looking up at him. Both were smiling. The picture pulled a small smile onto her lips. She looked toward the next one. Alec, Jace, and Isabelle stood side by side in the frame. Each held their own weapon. Alec had his bow loosely clutched in his right hand, the strap of his quiver could be seen across his chest. Isabelle stood in the middle with her whip wrapped around her wrist. Jace stood at the end, seraph blade in hand. The blade was glowing slightly even in the picture. There was a look of pride in all of their eyes. Jace looked around fifteen which meant Isabelle had been fourteen and Alec had been sixteen. Vaguely, she wondered what had caused such a prideful look as she turned her eyes away from the picture. The next thing her eyes landed on was Alec himself. He was busy putting something away in his nightstand. He had certainly grown into himself. His hair was slightly longer and more normally cut; his broader shoulders were accented perfectly by the T-shirt he now wore. "Alec?" She said, trying to warn him. His shoulders tensed. She knew then that he didn't recognize her voice. It was slightly hoarse and they had never really had an involved conversation, so it wasn't a surprise. He spun around and promptly dropped whatever had been in his hand. She glanced down for a moment to see what it was. It was a bottle of bruise cream. Her eyes returned back to him, now searching for injuries. She found a small yellowing bruise on his forearm. A bruise like that only came from using the bow without a bracer; Simon used to have bruises like that all the time.

"Clary…" Alec breathed. Her attention was pulled away from the bruise. The shock in his blue eyes would have been funny if she weren't so shocked. He was staring at her like Isabelle had been. Like he was torn between disbelief and dumfounded happiness.

"I tried to warn you," she said. His lip twitched upward. Unlike Isabelle, he didn't move in to hug her. He simply stared at her as if trying to figure out where she had come from and if she was really there. She shifted onto her foot. "I have to apologize," she started rambling as she knew she would. His stare was making her a little uncomfortable. "Magnus reassured me that you guys would be okay, but still…I heard how angry you were with him." She knew she wasn't making any sense. Just from that little bit, there was no way he would know what she was talking about, but-

"You were the client," he surprised her. Still, she couldn't stop the rambling now.

"Well, technically Isaac, the guy who found me, was the client. I was just the….I guess patient?" He looked completely confused and still a little shocked. She blushed and backtracked for him. "How about I start from the beginning?" He eased himself onto his bed.

"That's always a good place to start," he said drily. She moved to sit in the floor. Her legs were close to their limit. If she didn't sit down, she would humiliate herself by collapsing in his room. "What are you doing?" He asked bluntly. She froze.

"Um…sitting?"

"I know that, stupid," he drawled, "Why are you sitting on the floor?" She blushed.

"I didn't…uh…think you'd want me to sit next to you and there isn't really a chair in here…soo…" Alec rolled his eyes.

"I've been searching for you for two years. I think it's safe to say I'm not going to kill you for sitting next to me," he said. Clary bit into her bottom lip. She could hear the sincerity and conviction in his words; there was only one problem. She couldn't get up. Irritation flashed onto his face. "Well?" She blushed hotly.

"I can't get up, Alec," she whispered, ashamed and embarrassed. Alec's look of irritation turned into one of concern in the time it took her to blink.

"What do you mean?" He asked as he rose from the bed. "Is there something wrong?" He walked to where she sat in the middle of his floor on his dark blue rug. She thought she saw small flicks of glitter embedded in the fabric.

"I've been in a coma for two years, Alec. My limbs are a little weak," she told him. His blue eyes softened in a way she never thought she would see from him. He was looking at her as if she was his friend. He knelt down and took her hands in his.

"I'll help you. It's the least I can do…after all…" She had the feeling she wasn't supposed to be able to hear that last sentence. He pulled her up, letting her lean some of her weight onto him. Her legs shook strongly. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she forced herself to move forward. Her eyes locked on his bed.

'_It's just a short distance,'_ she told herself. _'You can do this.'_ Pride filled her when she reached the bed without falling again. She smiled widely at Alec. He blinked at her in surprise.

"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hands before letting go. She laced her hands together in her lap. "I suppose I should start my story now, huh?" He nodded as he sat down next to her. She sighed and began the story she had already repeated three times already.

His jaw was jumping sporadically when she finished. She could see the rage burning in his blue eyes. Unlike many people, whose eyes darkened when angered, Alec's eyes seemed to burn like crystals. Hard and bright. It was beautiful now that it wasn't directed at her.

"I'm sorry," came through his clenched teeth.

"What are you apologizing for?" She asked. Alec turned flashing blue eyes to her.

"I didn't do anything-"

"Alec." Clary said shortly. Alec stopped. "Jace is your parabatai. I _understand _why you stayed back. None of you had any way of knowing that Sebastian wasn't really who he said he was. None of the things that happened to me was your fault! Stop beating yourselves up!"

"I knew what his words were doing to you though," Alec said. Clary froze.

"Oh…" She recognized now what he was talking about. She turned her eyes away from him.

"And I didn't stop him…" Alec finished as if she hadn't said anything.

"I don't think anyone could have, Alec," Clary whispered. Jace had been determined. He had set his mind on hurting her. The familiar pain bloomed in her chest, tightness choked her throat, and her eyes burned. _'No.'_ She smacked her legs and stood up. She turned back to Alec who was staring at her curiously. "There's spaghetti in the kitchen," she told him. Suddenly, he looked wary. She snorted in amusement. "Don't worry. I made it." He blinked.

"How long have you been here?" He asked incredulously.

"About half an hour now," she answered. His eyes widened. She swallowed and asked the question that made her stomach pool with dread. "Can you take me to where Jace is?" Suddenly, his blue eyes hardened.

"You haven't been to see him yet?" He asked. Clary refused to look away from his angry eyes. She raised her dark red eyebrows.

"If I didn't do this one by one, I wouldn't be able to do it at all," she told him calmly. The anger melted into sad understanding. He nodded and started walking toward the door. Clary followed him on shaking legs. They walked side by side out in the hallway. After a few steps, he looked over at her.

"Are we really that bad?" He asked. She shook her head.

"Out of the three of you? You seemed the easiest to speak too," Clary told him. He blinked at her in surprise. "I wasn't close to you." She explained. Understanding filled his eyes. "And you never did anything to hurt me…" Sadness then. She smiled. "Call Magnus and tell him that you forgive him, yeah?" He blushed. "He jokes about the make-up sex he thinks is coming," the blush worsened. Clary swallowed her laugh, "But I know it bothers him that you aren't talking." They fell silent again. She got the feeling that they were nearing the place when Alec stopped. She turned and looked at him.

"Just keep going down this way," he motioned in the direction she was facing, "You'll know when you get close. And welcome back," he said it so quietly she would have thought she had imagined it if she hadn't been looking at him. Clary smiled softly. He nodded and turned on his heel.

"It's good to be back," she said to his retreating back before she turned and started walking again. Her legs were still sore and shaky, but she felt much more confident in her steps. Her mind raced as she walked. Every moment she had ever had with Jace-the good and the ugly-circled in her head. Suddenly, all she wanted was to see him. She recalled how horribly she had missed him during her coma. She had wanted nothing more than to be with him then, but when she awoke she was paralyzed by fear. That fear had overpowered everything.

The sound of fists hitting leather and the groaning of a chain reached her ears. She was here.

* * *

(A/N: I'm so evil! Lol. kailey (guest), I loved your review. You'll get your jealousy moments later, don't worry.)


	7. Jace

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 7

_Jace_

_'Oh, so that's what Alec meant…'_ She reached the archway and stopped. Her breath froze in her lungs. _'My memory didn't do him justice…' _She thought as she took in the sight of him. His shirt was thrown over the bench in the corner of the room. She could see every muscle bunching and contracting with his hits. His silvery scars and black runes caught in the light. _'He's magnificent…'_ She couldn't help but think. Suddenly, she ached to touch him. She bit into her bottom lip and shoved her hands into her pockets. She changed her study from his body to the power she could see behind his hits. _'He seems lost in his own violent world.'_ She thought as she watched him beat the poor bag. She stepped more into the room, sure that he would hear her approach. She had never been able to surprise him before. He didn't stop. He was just a powerhouse of rage. _'Should I wait for him to stop?' _She wondered.

"Jace!" She tried. He didn't hear her. She frowned and debated touching him, but that would probably end badly. He would probably spin on her; in her current state, she didn't think she could avoid it. She resigned herself to watching him. She walked to the bench and sank down.

She looked around the gym. There was a mat in the middle of the floor that she assumed they used for sparring and other training exercises. Across from her was a wall filled with weapons of every kind. At the very end of the room, where Jace and the punching bag were, was a long mirror. She could see herself in it, sitting on the bench with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap. She could see the front of him.

'_How can he not see me?'_ She wondered. _'Is he just that focused on the bag?'_ The answer she knew was yes. She used this time to study the front of him.

_ "He's a man burning, Clary. Isabelle told me he just sits in his room. Only coming out to hunt or eat. The first time I've really seen him in over a year was four days ago. He's a shell of who he was. It doesn't look like he's eating or sleeping properly."_ Now that she had gotten past the initial shock of seeing him after two years, she could see all of the things Simon had been talking about. There were dark circles underneath his golden eyes. He was paler and skinner than he had been. Despite all of that, he was still as stunning as the day she had met him. She slowly became mesmerized by his movements. She fell into the rhythmic sounds his punches made.

Ten minutes after she had sat down, he stopped. He grabbed ahold of the chain and leaned his forehead against the bag. His eyes were closed. She got up and started walking toward him. His shoulders were heaving underneath the force of his breathes; his hands were shaking from the adrenaline in his system. After a few seconds, he pushed himself away from the bag. She watched through the mirror as his eyes opened; she knew the moment he spotted her just behind him. She kept her eyes locked on the mirror, locked on him. His golden eyes widened. His beautiful lips fell apart.

"Feel better now?" She said the first thing that came to her mind. He stared at her in the mirror. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. Her heart lurched as she realized he didn't believe her to be real. She bit into her bottom lip. She reached out and ran a fingertip over one of the silvery scars on his back. He responded to her touch immediately. His golden eyes slid closed and a small shiver rippled down his spine. She took her finger away reluctantly. "I'm as real as you are," she told him as he opened his eyes again. He swallowed.

His memory hadn't done her justice. His imagination had never been able to create something so breathtaking. His mind could never recapture the feeling her touch gave him. It could never capture the varying greens in her Idris eyes. Still, he was terrified to believe that this was real; he didn't turn around even though every cell in his body screamed that he do so. "Why don't you turn around?" He swallowed.

"Because I'm afraid you'll disappear," he muttered brokenly. The pain and vulnerability in his tone made tears rise into her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pressed her head onto his back.

"I'm here," she told him. "I'm here and I'm real." She made a bold move; one younger Clary wouldn't have been able to do, but she had been without him for two years; she had longed for him for two years underneath all of the hurt he had caused. She pressed a small kiss between his shoulder blades.

His heart jumped in his chest as her warm lips touched the skin of his back. He could feel the pressure of her hand against his stomach. He swallowed and closed his golden eyes. He could feel her heartbeat against his back and the warmth of her body as it seeped through her clothes. Jace opened his eyes and looked into hers.

'_She's really here_,' he thought. '_I'm not dreaming…_' He stared at her in awe.

"Clary…" He whispered as he stared at her in the mirror. He raised his bruised, covered hands up to cover hers. He slipped his fingers underneath her hands and held on. "Clary…" He repeated. Her green eyes watered slightly; she smiled. He grabbed her hands tighter and jerked them up abruptly. A small gasp escaped her as he ducked out from underneath her arms. He twisted around so that he could face her. He placed her hands on his neck and slid his hands down from her wrists, to her elbows, and rested on them for a moment. He had imagined and dreamed of this moment for two years. He thought that he would kiss her senseless, but now that he was staring into her green eyes he was frozen. Her green eyes flicked back and forth over his face as if she were trying to take him in too. She tightened her fingers against his shoulders as he moved his hands up her forearms, shoulders, and neck. He ran his thumbs over her flushed cheeks. His fingertips brushed her forehead and followed her nose down to her lips softly. It was as if he was trying to drink her in through butterfly touches alone. She let her arms fall from around his neck and grabbed his hands. She lowered them to her shoulders and looked in his eyes.

"I've missed you too," she told him softly. He swallowed. He searched her eyes for a minute. They were soft and looking at him as if he were the only thing in her world. He didn't deserve it, but he didn't know how to live without it-without her.

Her green eyes broke away from his in favor of the punching bag that swung lazily behind them. Even though they were inches apart, he felt the distance swelling between them like the slow spread of blood from a wound. Reflexively, he tightened his hands around hers as if that single action could stop her from moving away from him. She looked toward him, but her eyes never met his. She let go of his hands and shifted backward away from him.

Vaguely, the venomous thought that she may have moved on rose into his mind. Flashes of some unknown man holding her, kissing her, making love to her assaulted him. He clenched his fists tightly as jealousy swelled up within him.

"Where have you been?" He asked to distract himself. At his voice, she looked back over to him. Her green eyes were filled with anxiety.

"We might want to sit down," she told him before she started to back away toward the bench. Jace followed her; his eyes were on her the entire time as if she were a beacon in the dark. She turned around then, unable to look in his eyes any longer. He stared at her as if she were his everything and while it still made her heart race, it also made her hurt. The things she had done…how could he possibly love her after that?

She looked over at him as he sat down beside her. He left his hand open between them; Clary longed to take it, but she feared his reaction when she finished her story. She didn't think she could handle it if he ripped his hand away. Clary could feel his eyes on her; she could feel the sudden tension between them. She didn't want to see the hurt there; he didn't understand why he didn't need to touch her. _'But soon,'_ she thought with a sad close of her eyes, _'you will…' _

She had known all along that he would be the hardest. Those golden eyes would draw everything from her. All of her sins, all of her shame would be laid there at his feet. The part that terrified her the most these past two years wasn't finding out that he really hated her or that he had moved on; no, it was the knowledge that this moment had the power to completely destroy her already broken pieces. Then again, he had always had that power over her. She just had never thought he would use it.

As she started to speak, she prayed that he wouldn't use it again.

X

Silence reigned over the room now. Her last words hung in the air. Jace could feel her eyes on him, but he couldn't speak. He was too angry, not at her-never at her. No, he was angry with himself. He clenched his fists tighter.

_"You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter. You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-all you ever think about is yourself!" (City of Glass, page 124, Cassandra Clare). _He recalled his angry words those two years ago. His stomach rolled. His blunt nails threatened to puncture his palms.

_ "The angel begged me to kill him. It was the only way, he said, for him to be set free." Tears gathered in her eyes. "I…didn't want too, but the sight of him—so frail and weak, was wrong. I took one of the seraph blades off of the wall…and…" She had choked on the words, but she hadn't needed to finish. He understood what she wasn't saying. _

_"He planned to kidnap me now, I see that…"_ He recalled her whispered declaration only minutes before, _"he would have returned to the Penhallows house and killed everyone inside. I've replayed that memory a thousand times. I could see it in his eyes. That bloodthirsty look. At the time, I just knew I couldn't let him leave that clearing, even if it meant I didn't leave either. But first, I needed a weapon and he had two. One seraph blade on his back and the other in his belt. The only question was how I was going to get it." _Her voice had fallen into a painful whisper, "_I used the only think I had against him." _She had refused to look at him. _"My body. I waited until I thought he was distracted enough and stole the one on his back. I knew I didn't stand a chance against him. He had more experience, more runes. The only hope I had was to slow him down enough that I could get in one fatal hit. I cut at his main arteries. Mainly the ones in his legs. I focused on opening those as much as possible so that he would lose blood…I waited for the right moment…and I killed him…" _Her voice had wobbled. _"I killed my brother…" _

_ 'All for us,' _he thought. His anger burned brighter.

Clary stared over at him still. The torment and anger in his golden eyes made her want to reach out for him, but would he even want her touching him now that he knew of everything she had done? She swallowed and looked away from him. Just when she was thinking of leaving, Jace opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he choked. Clary's heart broke as he buried his head into his hands. His blonde locks fell around his hands. "I'm so sorry…" She could see how hard he was shaking. Clary felt her lower lip start to tremble. She slid off of the bench and onto her knees in front of him. She grabbed his hands lightly in her own and pulled them down. She looked up into Jace's watery eyes.

"It's not your fault," she told him softly. "None of it was-"

"If I hadn't tried to get you to go home that day. If I hadn't…spoken to you like that…maybe you would have come to me for help, instead of…" He rambled brokenly. Clary swallowed back tears and rubbed her thumbs over his hands. The bandaging once more in her way.

"I'm not going to lie, it hurt, but you knew it would when you did it," she tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. A flash of pain flickered through his eyes. "But we'll talk about that later." Clary said to him softly even though the angry, hurt part of her insisting they talk about it now. She didn't want to overwhelm him or herself. She had already given him so much to process. "I need to go see Isabelle before she stomps through the halls looking for me…" Clary squeezed his hands a final time and reluctantly let go. She needed to leave before she did something stupid like kiss him; she still had no way of knowing just how he felt for her. She put her hands onto her knees and pushed herself into standing.

She used to be so sure where she stood with him, but now-after two years of separation and the argument that had happened just before her disappearance-she had no idea. She had always thought that her place was right beside him, but then he had so violently ripped the rug right out from underneath her. It didn't matter that it had all been a desperate lie; the hurt she still felt was very real.

"You mind if I come with you?" his voice broke her from her ponderings. Clary forced a smile onto her lips.

"Of course I don't mind," she reassured. For two years, she had missed him so strongly; she had wanted to hear his voice when Isaac was speaking to her. Her dreams had consisted of him. But she would never tell him any of that. She was distracted from her thoughts by his movement. He grabbed the white T-shirt from the bench and shrugged it on over his head. The action drew her attention to his half-nakedness again. She looked away quickly as he lowered it over his stomach. She made the mistake of looking up into his face. A small smirk was on his lips; a teasing light in his golden eyes. She scoffed quietly and looked away from his eyes. She found his hands again. The wraps were dark with blood; she frowned and reached forward.

Jace looked up at her as her hand curled around one of his. She turned his hand palm up and found the clasp. She popped it loose with nimble hands and started unwrapping the bind. She hissed as she finally revealed his hands. The binding had pulled the freshly formed scabs loose, but it didn't hurt him.

"Jace…" She scolded quietly. The skin was split and new blood welled up from the cracks. She could see the edges of his knuckles already bruising. He was distracted by the tenderness on her face as she tilted his hand around so that she could better see the damage he dealt himself. Her red locks fell from behind her shoulder in a beautiful curtain. The bandage fell to the floor as she started to unravel the other. She unraveled this one more quickly than she had the other one. She hissed. His left hand was much more damaged than his right. The cracked skin ran longer on his left hand. The knuckles already bruised. "Don't you know when to quit?" She muttered.

"I deserved it," he muttered. Her green eyes snapped up to his; instant anger blazed in them. His breath caught. Her passion was gorgeous.

"And why would you think that?" She demanded. Her hand tightening impulsively over his. He barely felt the pain. He was captured by her eyes all over again.

"The look on your face that day in Alicante has haunted me for two years," he admitted as he brought his free hand up to her cheek. He ran his fingertips across her cheek gently. A small smile threatened to stretch onto his lips as she leaned slightly into his touch. Once he reached the back of her jaw, he pushed a fallen red curl behind her ear. His fingers caressed that red lock to her shoulder.

"Jace…" She breathed. Her breath caught in her chest as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. His eyes drifted closed for a moment; his nose brushed hers gently. She felt as though her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest. With each beat, it seemed to hit against the wall she had built. Jace. Jace. Jace. She was forgetting why she wanted to fight this.

"Can you ever forgive me, Clary?" He asked quietly, brokenly. Clary's eyes started to water. Jace-who held his guards as close as his skin was to his muscles-was open and bare in front of her. He was baring his soul, begging for her to release him from his torment. She reached up to her shoulder and took his hand. His eyes opened.

"I already have," she told him honestly. He sagged against her; the relief he felt made his knees weak. She saw the signs before he moved. His golden eyes darted down to her lips. His foot slid closer to her; he bent slightly at the waist. '_What if he does it again?_' The thought rose viciously into her head. It dampened the longing she felt enough for her to listen to the traitorous whisperings of her brain. _'Think how much you trusted him before. Think of everything you gave him. And he threw it back at you. Could you survive it again so soon?'_ It was too late to step back. He was already so close. She turned her head. His lips met her cheek. She ignored her screaming heart. Jace pulled back. Clary looked over at him again. The guards had snapped back up over his golden eyes. His entire body was a tense as the wire in a finely tuned grand piano. She swallowed back the lump that had developed in her throat.

"Have you?" He demanded, his voice was hard and devote of emotion. Suddenly, anger scorched through her veins, warming her in the face of his chill.

"You don't get to do this," she hissed to him with such viciousness that the guards wavered. "You don't get to act like a wounded child just because I won't let you kiss me! I may forgive you. I may still love you," the guards lowered further. She pushed on, not realizing what she had admitted, "but that doesn't mean I trust you!" He visibly winched; her anger died as abruptly as it had come. Now, she was simply tired. She stared into his remorse filled golden eyes sadly.

Jace stared at her. He studied the slump to her shoulders and the ancient sadness in her green eyes. The harsh truth slapped him in the face. Isabelle had been right those years ago. He had destroyed her, but here she was standing in front of him giving him the opportunity to make it right.

"I'll do anything," Jace vowed strongly as he stepped closer to her. His hands curled around her biceps. He bent so that he could look her in the eye. Her breath once again left her as he focused his smoldering golden eyes on her green. Though it was a simple statement, it felt as though he were swearing on the Angel. "Anything," he reinforced, "to earn your trust again." Clary couldn't speak; she would need her breath for that. So, she simply nodded.

"Can we go see Isabelle now?" She questioned quietly. Jace nodded, let go of her shoulders, and stepped back. As they started toward the door to the training room, he reached for her hand slowly-giving her time to move her own hand out of his reach. She met him halfway and twined her fingers through his. She smiled slightly as he squeezed her hand in return.

X

"So, Max was telling me that you and the others were training him now," Clary tries at small talk as they walk down the hallway.

"Yeah," Jace says. She looks over at him. There is a softness in his voice that says how fond of the young boy he is. She smiles softly. "He's a natural with the feather staff." Clary recalls that the feather staff was the same thing Alec had tried to use against the Greater Demon and shivers slightly at the frightening memory. "But we want him to be able to use other weapons in case his feather staff isn't near him."

"Like the seraph blade," Clary said, glancing over at him. A teasing smile tugged at her lips. He furrowed his brows and looked at her strangely for a moment before it clicked. He chuckled.

"Exactly," he confirmed as they turned a corner. She smiled slightly. Jace started at that little smile and the way it lit up her eyes slightly. A small part of him still couldn't believe she was beside him after all this time. Her hand was small and warm in his.

Still, her words haunted him. She didn't trust him anymore, at least not with her heart. He had meant what he had said; he would do anything to earn her trust again, but…he had no clue where to start. It had been effortless to earn her trust the first time; he didn't even know what he had done back then to earn it.

They stopped in front of the library. Clary looked at the doors, him, and then their hands. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand. Their fingers brushed against one another in soft caresses. He felt the loss immediately and, by the way she shoved her hand into her pocket, he knew she had felt it too. Clary turned toward the door. She looked over her shoulder toward him.

"See you in a little bit," she reassured him. With a small sigh, she pushed the door open. Jace hovered outside for a moment after the door closed. Indecision filled him. He wanted to be there when she came out, but he also felt like she needed this time with Isabelle. His sister had missed her almost just as much as he had; he had no doubt what this conversation was going to be about. Jace sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. He let his hand fall to his side as he made his decision. He was going to go see Alec. He was in need of his parabatai's advice anyway.

* * *

(A/N: I toggled with two different version of how Jace and Clary's meeting would go. Let me know what you think of the one I chose. And I know this chapter is a little shorter than my others. I wanted to give you just Jace and Clary's reunion.)


	8. Circles

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 8

_Circles_

Isabelle sat on the couch in the library. Her legs were bent to the side of her hips; her elbow sat on the arm of the couch with her hand cupping her face. Clary let the door close behind her. Isabelle looked up and let her hand fall against the arm rest. She shifted her legs out from underneath her as Clary came closer. Isabelle tried to swallow the nerves that built up inside her.

"What'd you want to talk to me about?" Clary asked as she sat down on the couch across from hers. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips as the burning in her legs eased. Isabelle looked up at her then.

"I want you to be my parabatai," she confessed. Clary's mouth fell open. Isabelle rushed on. "Before you say no, I've had two years to think about this. You, Jace, and Alec are among the few people I would truly trust to have my back in a battle." Isabelle's hard determination turned softer—insecurity. "I'm just asking that you think about it. We've got a few months to decide anyway." _'And to get to build a stronger bond…'_ She added silently. Clary nodded; Isabelle suddenly felt as if Clary had heard her unspoken statement.

"Right…there's an age limit to taking a parabatai," Clary muttered. At the end of the eighteen year, the ceremony no longer became available. Isabelle may not know it, but Clary fully understood the gravity of what she was asking. It was an honor to be so valued. At seeing Isabelle's surprised look, Clary explained, "Isaac gave me lessons while I was in a coma. I know a lot more about the Shadowhunter world than I did before." Isabelle nodded, accepting it.

"I was also wondering if you would stay the night here tonight," Isabelle stated timidly. It would probably break Jace to see her walk out the door tonight, Isabelle realized. It would bother her too. They had just found her again. She probably wouldn't be out of her sight for another week or so.

"If you want me too," Clary said. "I just have to call mom and get her to bring me some things." Isabelle nodded in understanding. She stood from the couch and motioned toward the angel desk with a small wave her hand.

"The phone is still here," she said. Clary's heart broke at the slight sadness in Isabelle's voice. She knew it was because of Hodge. Any person could see how much the Lightwoods had cared for the man; it must have been such a blow to learn that he had betrayed their trust. Clary looked away from Isabelle and went to the phone.

As she listened to the dial tone, she chewed her bottom lip. Her mother had been iffy about letting her go see Simon; she had been even tenser when she left this afternoon to go to the Institute.

_"Hello?"_ Her mother picked up after the third ring.

"Hey, mom," she coiled the chord around her finger as she spoke, "Can you bring me some clothes? I'm gonna stay the night at the Institute tonight." She tried to convey as much finality into the statement as possible. Her mother had had her since she woke up.

_"What about Simon?"_ Her mother asked. Clary bit into her bottom lip. Her mother did have a point. Simon had only had her for a day before Clary decided to talk to the others.

"I'll see him tomorrow. It's not like we're going to spend all night and day in the Institute, mom," she returned.

X

Luke moved closer to his fiancé. She stood at the counter with a hand pressed to her chest. He knew that she struggled with letting Clary leave the house; she was still so afraid that Clary would disappear again if she wasn't within her sight. He ran his hands up and down her biceps as he leaned down to whisper to her:

"You have to let her do this, Jocelyn. They need her just as much as we do right now. Think of Jace's face the last time we saw him…" He whispered. Just as he had wanted, the young man's face flashed before Jocelyn's mind. She wavered; a small sigh escaped her lips.

"I'll send someone over with an overnight bag," Jocelyn relented.

* * *

Jace found Alec in his bedroom. The door was open which meant he was allowing visitors. Jace stopped the chuckle that threatened to escape at the way he thought of Alec's room. His parabatai was an extremely personal individual; he treated his room like it was a room in the hospital. There were certain visiting hours and usually only two people could be allowed in his room at a time. Jace knocked on the door twice before walking into the room. Alec looked away from his cell. When he saw that it was Jace, his blue eyes softened slightly.

"I guess she talked to you, huh?" Alec asked. He could see it in the way his parabatai held himself. His golden eyes held a light that he hadn't seen in two years, but there was still a darkness marring the corners. He understood; Clary's story was a lot to process. Jace nodded; he walked farther into the room and leaned against the nightstand beside his parabatai's bed. He crossed his arms over his chest comfortably.

"She doesn't trust me anymore," he said quietly. Alec's eyes widened for a minute before going back to normal size. He sighed noisily.

"I suspected as much…" Alec said gently. Jace jerked his head to his parabatai. He opened his mouth; Alec lifted a hand. "Out of all of us, she was most terrified to see you. She told me that she originally wanted to talk to be first. Thought I would be the easiest because I had never hurt her." Jace's jaw jumped. Alec suppressed the words that threatened to bubble from his lips next. He wondered if she had forgotten their argument so long ago and what he had done. He had hurt her. He had seen the bruises he had left. He looked away from his parabatai.

"How do I earn it back," Jace started, "when I don't even know how I earned it the first time?"

"Be yourself, I guess," Alec shrugged. "I would imagine that's how you earned it the first time." Jace rolled his eyes slightly.

"Thank for that great idea," he drawled. "Really. You are so insightful." Alec snorted.

"I'm glad to see you are getting back to your old self," Alec grumbled affectionately. Jace smiled slightly.

* * *

Not minutes later, the doors of the Institute opened to admit Isaac. He shifted the dark green duffle's strap higher on his shoulder as he looked around the place. He had never been in any Institute before, not even after he and his sister had been made orphans. He had been eighteen—old enough to live on his own and take care of his little sister. Not that there hadn't been hardships. He sometimes had to take more jobs from the Clave to make certain Adele stayed in school and that he kept a roof over both of their heads. Adele worked too, he knew. She had worked for a local restaurant all through her high school years, but it hadn't been enough; she had still needed his help though she had never asked for it. He would simply pay the school through a direct transfer of money and get her exasperated yet grateful phone call later that day.

He understood Jocelyn's want to keep her daughter protected and safe. He had been the same with Adele and it had driven her up the wall. Eventually, his overbearing ways had gotten to be too much. After he had paid off a car payment for her, Adele had snapped.

"_I know you want to take care of me, but let me do things on my own! I'm 16, Isaac! You have to stop babying me!"_ She had demanded. After that rather heated phone call, he had forced himself to step back and let her live her life like she wanted. Jocelyn would have to learn how to do the same. Adele hadn't fallen apart without him taking care of her; he was certain Clary wouldn't fall apart without Jocelyn. She would still come around and would always be Jocelyn's little girl. Now, getting Jocelyn to see all of this so soon after Clary's reappearance was another thing entirely. He suspected that he would have to sit down with Luke before anything could get done.

He was torn from his thoughts by the elevator jerking up. He steadied himself with the railing. As the elevator rose, he found himself sinking back into his thoughts. He found them drifting back to Clary, his Angel. A small smile rose onto his lips.

He knew she hated his nickname for her. It made her feel uncomfortable, but no matter how hard he tried to stop-it still slipped out. For him, it was the truth.

_Color filtered into his side through black flashes. He knew he was dying. He could feel it. He had heard rumors that when you died, angels took you to heaven. 'Where are they?' He wondered deliriously. He felt so light...maybe they were already carrying him. Maybe he had just missed them. As the color flashed back before his eyes, he saw a beautiful face floating there. Flaming red hair, emerald green eyes…was this woman an angel? He felt the tip of a stele against his skin. For a moment, confusion filled him. Pain soon overtook it as his wounds started to burn and rip. 'What's happening!?' He screamed in his head as his back arched off of the ground. He could hear someone screaming. As he pain died down, he realized it was him. _

_His chest heaved as the pain left him. His eyes fluttered open to see the angel leaning over him again. Her eyes were dipping down dangerously. She touched the stele to his stomach again and drew a familiar rune onto his stomach—an iratze. He felt his wounds close. He breathed a sigh of relief only for it to change to a grunt of pain as the woman fell forward and onto him. He struggled into a sitting position and rolled the woman off of him. It was only now that he could see her injuries. Blood poured from her shoulder and from a wound at her side. She had multiple places where bruises were starting to form. He swallowed and looked around for her stele; his lay broken a few feet away. He found it beside her and picked it up. _

"_Why didn't you heal yourself?" He asked her as he drew an iratze on the appendage closest to the wound on her shoulder. He moved down and drew another on her side. Still, she didn't wake up. He swallowed and searched her for more injuries. It was there on her thigh that he saw it. A small prick through her jeans with a little amount of blood staining the denim. He looked up and saw the small trail of blood leading back off the main road. He looked back down at the beautiful woman and lifted her into his arms. His only thought was of finding out how much blood she had lost and just how she had been injured. Demons had been running rampant the past few days outside the city. It was incredibly dangerous to search them alone especially if you were untrained. He had seen the lack of runes on her body. Her hands were free of the customary Voyance rune that all Shadowhunters were awarded when they reached of age. Yet, he could see the small silver scars of past runes. He furrowed his eyebrows as he carried her. His body still ached, but he fought past it. _

_He found the clearing she had come from quickly. There was a man lying face down in the clearing, obviously dead. In his hand was a small syringe. It would explain the prick on her thigh; he shift the unconscious woman onto his shoulder and knelt down. He picked the syringe out of the man's cold hand and stood up. There were signs of a battle in this clearing and a vicious one by the looks of it. Blood covered the clearing in splotches, but he couldn't be certain of what happened. Demons rarely lingered after a kill and he couldn't imagine such a slight girl like the one he now carried killing this man. He took her from his shoulder and placed her back in his arms. Maybe they had been comrades in battle; it would explain why she had waited to heal herself, especially if he had been important to her. He had heard of lovers dying shortly after one another. Quickly, he looked down at her and checked her pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief to find it. _

_He needed to get her help. The Clave was not an option. Since she bore no marks, she clearly wasn't registered as a Shadowhunter. Therefore, it would be impossible to get her through the gates. He could think of only one place she would be safe. The mundane world. Specifically, his little sister's house. _

The elevator squealed to a stop. He flinched and rubbed his ear as he opened the gate again. He stepped out to see a grey cat sitting calmly in front of the elevator. He tilted his head.

"Um…hello?" The cat seemed to glare at him. It turned on its paws abruptly and trotted down the hall. A few feet away, it stopped and looked back over its shoulder at him. He got the strange feeling that the cat expected him to follow. He furrowed his eyebrow and walked after him. He could have sworn he saw the cat roll its eyes.

He followed it down the winding halls into large doors. He opened them to see a huge library. He stared for a moment. Was this what he had been missing by never entering an Institute?! If so, he was not going to waste another minute not in one. This library was amazing! A giggle tore his attention away from the shelves. He whipped his head in the direction it came from. Clary and another woman sat on the couches.

"Isabelle, this is Isaac; Isaac, Isabelle," Clary motioned to each of them as she introduced. Isaac smiled at the woman he now knew as Isabelle. One of the Lightwood children. He swung the green duffle off of his shoulder as he walked toward them. Clary moved to stand up to meet him. He pointed at her with his index finger. His look clearly demanded that she not move. She sat back down onto the couch.

"I had to fight Adele to be the one to come deliver this," he told Clary, only half joking. She smiled and shook her head fondly.

"I bet," Clary chuckled; she could just picture it in her head. Adele, standing in the doorway of Luke's home with her hands on her hips, glaring at her brother. Isaac simply staring back at her with an eyebrow raised as he challenged her silently to take the bag from him.

While Clary was lost in her head, Isabelle took in the man that saved the small redhead. He was gorgeous, that much was obvious. If she hadn't had Simon, Isabelle was certain she would be flirting up a storm with him right now. He wore a simple dark green T-shirt that brought out the green of his eyes and a pair of black jeans. He had shoved his hands into his pockets and was staring at Clary. Even though she knew their story, the affection in his green eyes still took her by surprise. She was torn from her observation by the library door opening. Isaac turned at the waist and looked over his shoulder at the newcomer.

Jace and Alec froze at the entryway of the library as they spotted the man standing in between the two couches. Unlike the two of them, he stayed relaxed. He looked at them with a lax curiosity. The girls seemed comfortable enough with him.

"Oh! Jace, Alec, this is Isaac Verona," she introduced him with a simple wave of her hand. Alec relaxed, but Jace found he couldn't. There was something in the way he looked at Clary during her introduction of him that set him on edge. "The black headed one is Alec," she continued, "and the blonde is Jace."

Isaac studied the blonde, Jace. The man may not know who he was, but Isaac certainly knew him. Jace Wayland-Lightwood-Herondale was something of a legend among the Shadowhunter community; not that, Isaac thought, the man needed to know it. He had been said to have killed over two hundred demons by the time he was seventeen. Impressive, but it didn't sway Isaac's current opinion of him in the slightest. A man had never earned his respect by his prowess in battle, but by how he treated the women in his life; that being said, Isaac didn't think much of Idris' legend. It didn't help him, of course, that one of the women Jace had hurt had been his Angel.

Isaac noticed with a rush of amusement that Jace seemed to be sizing him up. He raised his eyebrow slightly. _'So, he doesn't know the nature of my relationship with Clary…_' He looked over at the curly redhead. A plan was already forming in his head; a way to get back at Jace for the pain he had caused Clary and a way to test him. _'This is going to be fun…'_ He thought as he deliberately seated himself next to Clary. She looked over at him and smiled slightly before sparring a glance at the boys; her eyes lingering, of course, on Jace. _'Better enjoy it, boy,' _he thought toward the blonde, _'because it's the only attention you're going to get from her for the rest of the day.' _

X

Isaac always told the most interesting stories. Her and her mother could bring any landscape to life on an easel, but Isaac could bring an experience back to life and let his audience live it with him. Clary could see that he had Isabelle and Alec entranced by the story he told even though she was certain they had seen the same things he spoke of. However, Jace seemed to be lost in thought. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His hands were together in front of him; fingers laced together and coming to rest on the back of his hands. His golden eyes were staring down at his hands. She could see that he was completely lost in thought. His blonde locks had slipped from behind his ear. She wouldn't have been able to see his eyes if she hadn't been sitting across from him.

Each time she had tried to talk to Jace-even if it was to just ask a question, Isaac would pull her attention away from him somehow. She had figured out early on that it was intentional. Right now though, she knew Isaac was distracted by his own story. His hands were flying around as he spoke. Alec and Isabelle were hanging onto his every word. No one was paying attention to them. And her fingers itched to push that lock of hair out of his face.

'"_Be yourself," Alec said,_ _but wasn't being myself what drove her away in the first place?' _He questioned as he shifted one foot only a fraction closer to his other foot. He was aware that he was thinking in circles. None of his ideas seemed good enough so he inevitably kept circling back to what Alec said.

Then there was the matter of Isaac. The black headed man held his brother and sister entranced with his words; he knew it was probably the same for Clary. He clenched his hands tighter against one another and grit his teeth. His jealousy from earlier that day rose viciously inside him again. Only the faceless man in his place was Isaac. He saw Isaac holding Clary, kissing her, making love to her; and it enraged him. But beating up Isaac certainly wouldn't gain him any favor with Clary right now, no matter how badly he wanted too.

She spared a quick glance over at Isaac and the Lightwood siblings before leaning forward. She reached across the small distance. His golden eyes flashed to hers instantly at the movement. Their eyes locked; her heart skipped a beat. Her index finger and thumb circled the blonde lock; she leaned forward a little more and tucked it behind his ear. Her fingertips lingered on his cheek as she pulled her hand away. Her fingertips followed his jaw line; for a moment, she imagined peppering small kisses along his jaw. The image faded when she reached his chin. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand back. All the while they kept eye contact. She loved the way his eyes burned into hers; the intensity she saw there caused a small shiver to rush down her spine. As her hand fell away, his eyes flicked away from her. It was only for a second, but it was enough to remind her that there were other people in the room with them. A fiery blush lit her cheeks as she became aware of everyone's eyes on the two of them. She sat back awkwardly and crossed her arms over her chest as if it could shield her. She glanced toward Jace again after Isaac had started talking again slowly. His eyes were still on her. The corner of his lips lifted slightly in a tiny smile. She smiled small and tore her eyes away from him.

* * *

(A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know it seems like a filler chapter, but I brought Isaac into the picture for a reason. Wanna see if you can guess why?)


	9. No Glory

**Learning to Live **

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 9

_No Glory_

Jace leaned against the wall as he watched Clary hug Isaac goodbye. Her arms were wrapped around his neck; she stood on her tiptoes just to reach him. He could see the slight tremor to her legs; he swallowed. For a moment, his jealousy is swallowed up by concern. Her lack of strength-despite having slight muscles still-is concerning. As if feeling the tremors, Isaac lifts Clary off of her feet. She giggles. Just like that his jealousy is back. Isaac ignores the glare Jace is leveling at him as he sets Clary down on her feet.

"I probably won't see you for a while," Isaac says quietly. Clary's green eyes locked on his darker green.

"Why?" Clary asks; her tone is filled with concern. Isaac smiles slightly.

"Nothing horrible. I just have to go to Idris for a few days," he reassures her.

"Alright," Clary nods.

"By the way," he whispers as if he is telling her a secret, "Adele and I put your birthday present from us in your bag."

"I kind of figured you waking me up was my birthday present," Clary tells him as he starts to walk away from her. He turns around and starts walking backwards.

"Didn't know it was your birthday," Isaac points out with his index finger as he nears the corner. He smiles at her as he walks around it. Clary shakes her head and turns around to see Jace leaning against the wall. He's looking directly at her; his golden eyes are unreadable. He's got her duffle sitting beside him. He stoops down and swings it over his shoulder as she starts his way.

"I'll show you to your room," he tells her.

"Okay," she concedes. The first time she was in the Institute she was just learning her way. She hadn't gotten the chance to explore the place in its entirety. The burn in her legs tells her that exploring the Institute would have to wait. She wants to scream. _'I'm so tired of waiting!'_ She screams mentally. For two years, she had waited for someone to wake her up; now, she was waiting to be able to walk again. Waiting, waiting, waiting!

Jace glances over at her. He had asked her a question, but she apparently hadn't heard him. Her green eyes are staring straight ahead.

"Clary," he tries again. This time she blinks and turns her attention to him. Simon had often complained that it took three minutes for him to get her attention usually; Jace felt proud that he had gotten her attention in barely fifty seconds. "Are you alright?" He asks; it's not the question he asked originally, but he wants to know this answer a little more.

"Fine," she says with a smile. She slaps her thigh. "Just tired of not being able to walk but a few short distances." Jace doesn't smile.

"You have to build your strength up," he says logically.

"So everyone tells me," she grumbles as she crosses her arms over her chest. "But how can I build my strength up if I can't stay on my feet for more than thirty minutes?" She asks rhetorically. Jace bites his tongue to keep from giving her a stupid suggestion like "you could always use the stamina or strength rune." The runes would lure her into a flash sense of security. They were only a temporary fix to her problem. She needed to build her strength up on her own. _'But…what if the stamina rune could be used as an aid?_' He wondered, suddenly traitorous to the logic he had tried to apply earlier.

"Meet me in the training room tomorrow morning," he found himself saying as he slowed in front of the bedroom. It was located between them all. Jace was at the farthest end of the hall; Isabelle in the middle along with Clary-maybe a few doors down; Alec was at the other end of the hall. Clary raised her eyebrows at him, but nodded anyway.

"Okay. What are we going to be doing?" She asked. "Because I'm not holding the bag for you," she added. Jace laughed and swings the duffle off of his shoulder. Clary takes it from him and swings it over her own shoulder.

"Think of it as endurance training," he tells her as he kicks away from the door and walks toward his room. He can feel Clary's eyes on him. He smiles. Clary stares after him; she snorts and shakes her head as she pushes the door open.

The first thing she notices is that the bed is a queen. At the headboard and footboard there are thin towers that go up to form a frame at the top where a white thin curtain lays flat. It drapes down at each corner of the frame and ends at the bottom of the bed. She adored beds like these. When she was younger, her mother had had one. She could remember closing the curtains and hiding inside with a book. The off white bed sheets have small silver runes stitched between each of the four corners. It was beautiful in its simplicity.

She throws her bag onto the bed and opens it up. There atop her clothes lay two long boxes. A smile tugs onto her lips as she recalls Isaac's parting statement. Clary picked up the first box. It was silver and caught the light as if it were covered in glitter. A faded green ribbon was tied around the box. She pulled the small bow loose and laid the ribbon in her lap. She lifted the top and her breathe froze in her lungs. Her hand shook as she lifted the stele off of the tissue paper that surrounded it. It was the same one she had used to heal Isaac. The stele still felt warm and familiar in her hand. Her eyes stung with tears. She turned the stele over in her hand. She hadn't thought of it since saving Isaac. She had forgotten it, but Isaac and Adele never had. She laughed a little and wiped at her eyes even though none of the tears slipped over. Clary forced herself to set the stele into the box again and pick up the other box. Unlike the first box, this one was wrapped in blue paper with a cream colored ribbon tied around it. She untied the ribbon and slipped her pinky along the edge of the paper. She unraveled it and opened the box. Her eyes widened at the content. A small green beaded charm bracelet sat on the tissue paper. The only charms on it were a small strawberry and a redheaded angel. She lifted it out of the tissue paper gently. It was gorgeous. There were small hooks for other charms, she noticed. She looked back toward the box to see if some had fallen off. Instead of charms, she found a note.

_We left room for other charms. So that as you make more memories, you can add more. _

_Adele & Isaac_

She smiled and lowered the note and bracelet back into the box. She set both of the boxes onto her nightstand and turned back to her bag. She pulls out a pair of grey sleep pants and a baggy cream-colored T-shirt before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed.

* * *

_She let the door fall shut behind her. It was dark in the kitchen, darker than it had been in the living room. She strained her eyes to see Sebastian and Max and saw nothing but shadows. _

_ "Sebastian?" Uncertainty crept into her tone. "Sebastian, what are you doing in here? Where's Max?" _

_ "Isabelle." She thought she saw something move, a shadow dark against lighter shadows. His voice was soft, kind, almost lovely. She hadn't realized before now what a beautiful voice he had. "Isabelle, I'm sorry." _

_ "Sebastian, you're acting weird. Stop it." _

_ "I'm sorry it's you," he said. "See, out of all of them, I liked you best." _

_ "Sebastian—" _

_ "Out of all them," he said again, in the same low tone, "I thought you were most like me." _

_ He brought his fist down then, with the hammer in it. (City of Glass, page 234). _

Clary jerked awake with a quiet yelp, sweating and shaking. The book she had fallen asleep reading hit the floor with a loud thunk. The parabatai rune stared up at ceiling from the thin paper. Clary wrapped her arms around her waist as if it could stop her shivers. She only shook harder. She had been haunted by these horrible, sometimes reoccurring nightmares for the past two years, ever since she had fallen into Lake Lyn. They had been even more horrifying when she awoke to complete darkness. The darkness had been suffocating. Now, the relief of seeing the low light from her nightstand lamp nearly brought her to tears.

If she hadn't awaken when she did, she would have seen Sebastian beat Isabelle to death. It never changed. Clary tightened her arms around her waist. Her nails bit into her skin through her shirt. No one ever came to save Isabelle or little Max. Tears started to trail slowly down her cheeks. Her eyes found the open book then. The parabatai rune stared up at her.

She recalled both what she had read and what Isaac had told her. Parabatai were able to sense one another's life force. They felt the moment life left their parabatai and when something supernatural happened to the other.

Logically, she knew that her decision shouldn't be made just because of the emotions she felt right now. Logic, however, didn't seem to matter. All she knew was that she couldn't lose Isabelle; she couldn't lose anybody. She _wanted _to protect Isabelle with her life; she _wanted _to be by her side and have her back during battle; and from what she'd read that's all that really mattered.

She climbed out of bed. The cold floor against her bare feet did nothing to deter her. She slipped out into the hallway and began to walk toward Isabelle's room.

* * *

Isabelle was only just dozing off when she heard the knocking at her bedroom door. She leaned up onto her elbows. _'Who in the hell is knocking on my door at,' _she looked toward the alarm clock on her nightstand, '_two a.m.?'_ Irritation swelled up within her powerfully. She threw the covers off and marched to the door. She threw it open and recoiled instantly. Clary stood there. Her arms were wrapped around her waist as if they were the only thing keeping her together. Nervous energy radiated from her.

"Clary? Are you alright?" Isabelle questions, truly worried for her friend. She had never seen Clary like this before.

"Yeah," Clary said, but the movement of her head contradicted her. Isabelle furrowed her eyebrows. "Can I come in?" Isabelle blinked and stepped aside instantly.

"Of course," Clary stepped around Isabelle and sat down on the end of her bed. Isabelle closed the door and walked over to her. "What's wrong?" She asked. Clary looked over at her and it all came spilling out.

"When I arrived at Idris through that portal, it threw me into Lake Lyn." Isabelle's eyes widened; her lips fell apart. "According to Luke, I inhaled half of it before he could get me out. He took me to his sister, Amatis, and she saved me…but the nightmares…" A dark laugh escaped her lips. She didn't finish, but she didn't have too; Isabelle understood. She reached across the small space between them and took Clary's hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked. Clary's green eyes were almost lifeless when she looked over at her. Isabelle smothered her gasp, but her hand tightened around Clary's. She shook her head. Life resurfaced in Clary's eyes, but pain still swam there.

"There's no need," Clary muttered. "It'll only scare you." Isabelle opened her mouth to say that it couldn't possibly frighten her if it wasn't real, but Clary pushed on. "But they made me realize something." Isabelle tilted her head in question. "My answer's yes." Isabelle blinked. Confusion filled her for a moment, then it clicked.

Even though she was happy, Isabelle couldn't help but be skeptical, "Are you sure? This isn't a decision you need to make in one night…" Clary smiled.

"I know that _I can't_ lose you," she said. Isabelle's eyes widened. "I _want_ to be your side in a battle—even if it's just a small skirmish with a demon I know you can handle. I want to have your back like I know you'll have mine."

"Um…okay…you're pretty sure then…" Isabelle muttered. Her heart was pounding in her chest despite herself. She could feel the sincerity in Clary's words. "But we still have to know each other better before we go into the ceremony or…"

"The Council will reject us," Clary said. "I know."

"So…what's your favorite color?" Isabelle asked. Clary looked over at her with a small laugh.

"Twenty questions?" She asked.

"Why not?" She shrugged.

"Green," Clary answered. Isabelle smiled knowingly. She could have guess that one. Clary looked around her room, already knowing the answer to what Isabelle's favorite color was. Pink.

"Who was your first serious relationship?" Clary asked.

"Simon," Isabelle admitted. She snorted, only vaguely offended as Clary's eyes widened. "All the guys before him…I didn't have an emotional connection too. Simon was…different. He didn't just want to be with me for one thing…no matter what Jace thought of him, but I could see…that he loved you. So, I was terrified of getting too close. Then," Isabelle swallowed, "you vanished. And…he needed me so much. I pushed my feelings aside for that first year and just focused on him." Clary squeezed Isabelle's hand.

"Thank you…for taking care of him," she whispered. "I don't want to think of where he would have been if you hadn't been there for him." Isabelle bit her tongue to keep from telling her exactly where he would be. She had seen it that first day she came to check on him. She still remember how sick and thin he looked; how quickly his mother had ushered her in.

_ "I don't know who you are and frankly I don't care as long as you can help my boy_," Elaine had said as she shoved Isabelle toward Simon's room. Isabelle shook the memories away.

"Who was your first serious relationship?" Isabelle asked in return.

"Undoubtedly Jace," Clary said with sureness, "he was my first kiss, my first love, and my first heartbreak." Isabelle flinched; Clary saw it. She smiled slightly. "My heart had broken long before that night, Isabelle." The words didn't make Isabelle feel any better. It only made her hurt worse for her friends. They had both been through so much. She couldn't imagine the pain of being in love with the man that you believed to be your brother. Still desiring to be with him even though you knew it to be wrong. It was like a love story written by Brothers Grimm.

"At least you guys are together now," Isabelle fished. Clary looked away from her. The slump of her shoulders filled Isabelle with panic. "You aren't…are you?" She whispered. Clary shook her head.

"I still love him…with everything in me, but I don't…trust him anymore." Just like that Isabelle's heart broke along with Clary's voice. She could hear the raw pain that Clary hid just underneath the surface. The pain that Jace had caused. "I gave him all of me, Isabelle, and he threw it back at me; then, he stomped on the pieces in a doomed attempt to protect me."

_'I was right,'_ Isabelle realized, _'but there's no glory here. They're both broken and have been for a very long time….and the only person that fix them is one another.'_ Clary looked over at her now. Her green eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"How can I trust him after that?" She asked; her green eyes pleading Isabelle for the answer she couldn't give.

"Give him a chance," was all Isabelle could say, "Give it time." Isabelle shifted so that she fully faced Clary on the bed. She took both of the girl's hands in her own and leaned forward slightly. Her dark brown eyes bore into Clary's green. "Just…Clary please…_please_…don't give up on him because I don't think he'd survive it."

"Isabelle," Clary sighed. Isabelle tensed, fearing the answer. Clary's green eyes bore into hers. "Giving up on Jace is the one thing I have never been able to do."

* * *

_ Their clothes were thrown about the room carelessly. Clary stood at the footboard, naked as the day she was born and waiting for him. He smiled and let his sock fall to the floor. He walked to her. She smiled gently and pushed a lock of his hair out of his face. Her green eyes staring up at him as if he were her entire world. He smiled and kissed her gently; his hands wandered down to her legs and he swept her in his arms._ _She giggled as he laid her down on the bed. Her red hair covered his pillow. He smiled as he came to hover over her. He brushed her hair away from her neck with gentle fingers before placing a small skin on her pulse point. She sighed; her pink lips parted softly. They drew him in as if emitting a siren's call. He peppered small kisses to her lips. She tangled her hands in his shoulder length hair and sighed against his name against his mouth. _

_ "Isaac…" _

Jace awoke with a jerk. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room, almost as if he expected to see them on the bed with him. He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, and flopped back down onto the bed.

"Damn it…" He cursed. There would be no getting back to sleep tonight, he realized. He vaulted up from the bed and shrugged a shirt on. He walked out of his bedroom. As he walked by, he peeked in Clary's bedroom. His heart jolted at finding it empty. His mind wandered back to the dream. _'What if she snuck out to see…' _The thought was interrupted by a familiar giggle, Isabelle.

"You're serious?!" He heard Isabelle gasp through laughter.

"Yeah!" Relief filled him as he heard Clary's voice, filled with laughter.

"Oh my god!" Isabelle fell to the laughter again. Jace could see them through the crack in Isabelle's door. Clary and his sister sat on the bed; in their laughter, they were leaning into one another. Potato chips and candy were on the bed between them. Jace smiled in amusement and relief. He chuckled and turned away from the door. He felt significantly lighter, but he was still too wired to sleep. _'Nothing a few laps around the training room won't solve…'_ He thought.

* * *

(A/N: Crappy ending to the chapter I know, but at least it wasn't a cliff hanger.

**MalecBaby** and **Chatterbox**, you guys have no idea how badly you have surprised me. Wanting Isaac and Clary together…yes the name would sound awesome (Isary?) but still…oh my goodness!

**Kailey (guest)** of course I responded. I try to respond and take suggestions, you know. I hope this chapter has answered your question.)


	10. Communication

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 10

_Communication_

"Where are you going?" Isabelle grumbled from the bed. Clary looked over her shoulder at her friend. Isabelle had woken up when the door creaked. She was now propped up on one elbow. Her long black hair dipped off of her shoulder. Her brown eyes were dipping down with the heaviness of sleep.

"Back to my room," she answered, "Jace told me to meet him in the training room this morning. Do you want to come with?" Clary asked. Isabelle looked back over at the nightstand and flopped back down. She rolled over and pulled the cover back up to her chin.

She grumbled something, but it sounded vaguely like, "too early for this…" Clary chuckled and stepped out of Isabelle's bedroom. She closed the door completely behind her. As much as Isabelle's answer amused her, she supposed she did agree. They had stayed up until at least four a.m. She now knew Isabelle's favorite food, her first sexual experience, how many men she had slept with, what her idea of a perfect date was, if she and Simon were her first experience with mundanes…the list went on and on. They had shared stories; she knew of some of Jace's most embarrassing hunts. She couldn't wait to bring them up.

A small giggle escaped her lips as she reached her room. She slipped inside; she dropped her sleep clothes along the floor as she went. She opened her bag again and pulled out a simple tank top and a pair of black yoga pants. She hadn't gotten the chance to look fully through her bag last night; she had just been so sleepy that it had slipped her mind.

"Oh…there's a lot more in here for just one night…" She muttered as she dug through it. She had thought the duffle looked a little full when Isaac brought it in. She dumped the contents of the bag out. Her face caught fire as she saw what fell on top. She picked it up. "Adele!" She whined. "What the hell?!" It was a small slip of black lace. A thong. "Oh and now what is this?" A matching bra. "I can't even walk right! I don't imagine I'll be…" Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth on the word. "_Doing that!_ Anytime soon." She tossed them back in the bag as if they were live snakes. "I'm going_ to kill_ her." Clary growled in frustration as she saw that half of her underwear were like that. Bikini-strap panties of mostly all colors and matching push up bras. The next piece of clothes were night dresses…if you could call them that. One was emerald green and would fall mid-thigh on her. White lace trimmed the bottom and the breasts. Clary picked it up by the thin white straps and tossed it into the back with the underwear. The other was pink with black lace. White with light blue lace. "By the Angel…" Clary groaned. She shoved all of them into the duffle and stomped into the bathroom. She would deal with the rest later. Right now, she just wanted to stomp to Adele's apartment and ring her pretty neck.

_'Mom must have packed all of the practical things because there's no way she would want me wearing any of that around Jace…'_ Her cheeks flushed heavily. _'Even though it probably would drive him crazy…' _

"No!" She pointed her toothbrush at herself in the mirror. "Stop that!" She spit out the toothpaste and looked back up at herself. "Great…I'm talking to myself in the mirror now…" She grumbled as she grabbed her brush off of the side of the sink. She ran it through her curls and pulled her hair up in a tight ponytail. She jerked on her clothes and walked back into her room. She glared viciously at the bag as she picked up her tennis shoes. She was now angry both at herself and at Adele. She sank down onto the edge of her bed and slipped her old green sneakers onto her feet. _'I just said I didn't trust him and I'm thinking of…how he'll react to…to…skimpy nighties and underwear?! Come on, girl! Get it together!' _She thought as she tied her shoes_._ She threw her feet off of the bed and walked out the door. She was mindful not to slam it. She didn't particularly feel like explaining the source of her she walked down the hallway, she got the mental image of trying to explain it to Alec. Despite the awkwardness in the mental image, she laughed.

Halfway down to the training room, she ran into Alec. _'Speak of the devil!'_ She thought as she saw him, then her eyebrows shot up her forehead. There was glitter in his hair and what looked like hickeys on his neck. When he saw Clary, he froze.

"So…I suppose the two of you made up then?" She asked; a wide smile drifting onto her lips as she crossed her arms and set her hip to the side. Alec blushed and looked at a place just above her shoulder.

"Yes…ah…we did," Alec admitted, seeing no point in denying it.

"Was it even better than usual?" Clary couldn't help it. His blush spread down to his neck, highlighting the already red hickeys. His blue eyes widened.

"Clary!" He exclaimed, clearly scandalized that she would even ask such a question. Clary laughed and uncrossed her arms.

"I'm just teasing…" She drawled. Alec narrowed his eyes. He could tell she was loving this. He walked forward, intending to go around her, when her next question stopped him. "Does he even wear glitter to bed or did he just keep you up all night?"

"I think I liked it better when you were wary of me," Alec sighed as he turned back around to face her. She had a wide smile on her lips.

"Liar," Clary returned.

"So, where are you going then?"

"To the training rooms…Jace said something about endurance…" She saw the look on Alec's face. His head was tilted, there was a small smirk on his face, and his eyebrows were raised as if to say _"ah? What was that? And you were taunting me?!" _A small blush rose to her cheeks. "Oh! Not like that!"

"Right…Right. I'm just teasing," he returned cheekily. Clary huffed and rolled her eyes. Alec straightened his head; his smile fell; and just like that the air turned serious. "Seriously though, Clary, don't keep him waiting too long. He's been hurting for as long as you have." She looked down; no longer able to look into Alec's blue eyes. "And," he added softly, "don't push yourself too hard." She looked back up and smiled.

"I'll try not to," Clary returned. Alec nodded. "See you later, Alec."

"Later!" He called as she walked away. He had given her a lot to think about…like what about that day had hurt her most. Sure, there had been his words…but it was something even more than that.

_ She threw the door open. The room seemed to be a sort of library, the walls lined with books. It was brightly lit, light streaming through a tall picture window. In the middle of the room stood Jace. He wasn't alone, though—not by a long shot. There was a dark-haired girl with him, a girl Clary had never seen before, and the two of them were locked together in a passionate embrace._ (City of Glass, page 118). Bile rose up her throat. She stopped in the hallway and closed her eyes. She bit into her cheek as the memory stabbed her with small hooked barbs.

_She noticed that the girl had dark straight hair to her shoulders and was extremely pretty. The top buttons of her shirt were undone, showing a strip of lacy bra. _(City of Glass, page 119). The barbs dug deeper into her heart. She sighed and fisted a hand into the neck of her tank top. It was that, that memory right there that had nurtured her distrust. She didn't have to imagine where things would have gone had she not opened that door; she had been tortured by it for two years. Imagined that Jace had moved on to her.

'_Aline is everything I'm not. Beautiful, curvaceous with long, straight, silky hair. She doesn't have any freckles. He didn't have to bend down to kiss her...' _The embrace she had witnessed rose into her mind again. He had held her like he never wanted to let go of her. Aline's back had been bent underneath the force of his kiss. Clary bit into her bottom lip to keep the cry back. She didn't know whether it was one of sadness or anger. Both emotions were running just as strongly in her.

If she tried to train with Jace right now, she would simply pick a fight with him; so, she turned around and sank against the ground beside the archway. She dug her nails into her knees as she tried to suppress the scream. Two years of built up rage and pain swirled inside her. Suddenly, she couldn't sit here anymore; she needed to be moving. She vaulted up from the floor and started running.

She hit the stairs like the hounds of hell were chasing her. She took them two at a time. At the last set of stairs, Church lumbered in her path. The cat stopped at seeing her coming; the hair on his back raised abruptly. She propelled herself over the railing to keep from stepping on him. She landed jarringly on her feet; she righted herself and darted toward the doors. The doors to the Institute had barely closed behind her and already Clary was halfway down the street.

* * *

Jace walked into the training room and glanced down at his watch. It was eight o'clock. Clary was probably still asleep, given how late the girls had stayed up last night. He had heard their voices when he had retired to bed at three thirty. With that thought in mind, he started a slow jog around the training room.

Unaware that miles away, Clary was running too and that he had just missed her by mere minutes.

* * *

Clary collapsed on a familiar doorstep. She had ran to Adele's apartment. A laugh escaped through her pained pants as she sank down against the apartment door. Her lung and legs felt like they had been ripped open. At the moment, she was having a hard time deciding which hurt worse. She realized with dull amusement that she had achieved her purpose. She no longer felt angry; she just felt weightless. She thumped her head back against the door.

It opened. With a sharp gasp, she fell back. A small groan of pain escaped her as she fell on Adele's feet. Clary looked up at her. Adele was staring down at her with the most surprised expression on her face. Despite her breathless state, Clary laughed. She waved with a small flick of her wrist. Adele blinked slowly before she seemed to realize that this was really happening. Clary sat up off of Adele's feet.

"What on earth…girl…I thought you were supposed to be staying at the Institute for the night?" Adele finally composed her question. Clary's amusement died. Her smile faltered. All of the anger and pain came rushing back. She sank down on the couch to quiet her screaming legs. Adele sat down next to her. Her blue-grey eyes bore into Clary's green and were filled with worry. Clary took a shuttering breathe.

"I told him that I didn't trust him anymore…" Adele reached across the small space and squeezed Clary's hand. She could see how much it bothered her Strawberry that she couldn't trust the man she loved anymore. Clary looked over at her. Her eyes filled with tears and everything started pouring out. "To top it off, my own insecurities fuck us up even more!" A small tortured sob escaped her. "I saw him with a girl in Idris. I caught him. I know he would have fucked her if I hadn't come in!" In her pain her filter had shattered, but Adele didn't care. All she cared for was the tears pouring down Clary's cheeks in rivers. Adele pulled the younger woman into her arms and let her cry. "How could I compare to someone that looked like that?!" Clary's sobs were vicious against Adele's chest.

"You are beautiful," Adele reassured her. "If he loves you, there won't be anyone that compares to you." When Clary's sobs had reduced to mere hiccups, Adele held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. "Have you talked to him about all of this?" Clary shook her head. "I didn't think so," Adele tsked. "You wouldn't be here if you had." Adele pushed a lock of Clary's hair of her face and rested a hand on her neck as she said, "talk to him about how you feel. Communication is an important part of any relationship, Clary," Adele told her seriously. "You two won't get anywhere if you don't talk." Clary looked away from Adele's intense stare and nodded.

"Yeah, okay…" She whispered. Her expression turned sheepish; she looked over at Adele and grinned slightly. "Do you think you could give me a ride back?" Adele's eyes turned hard. She pursed her lips.

"You ran all the way here, didn't you?" She asked. Clary bit into her bottom lip and nodded. Adele popped her in the back of head in retaliation.

"Ouch!" Clary exclaimed as she rubbed the back of her head.

"Don't do that again!"

"Don't put skimpy underwear in my bag," Clary returned, suddenly remembering, as Adele stood up. The dark headed beauty turned back to her and grinned deviously.

"Don't be so hasty to tell me to stop. By the end of the week, you may be thanking me," Adele said. Clary's mouth fell open. The older woman couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you really think he could earn my trust back that fast?" Clary asked quietly as they drove away from Adele's apartment. Adele looked over at her.

"Strawberry, you love this man. Despite what all happened in the past, you love him which means somewhere in you, you still trust him. It just needs to be cultivated. You need to be reassured." Adele looked over at her as they turned a corner. "Besides," she said, teasingly, "you'll be surprised what can happen within a week." Clary instantly thought of two years ago. She had lost her mother, discovered she was a Shadowhunter, found out her father wasn't dead but a psycho, fell in love, found out she had a brother, and gotten her heart broke all in two weeks. A dry chuckle escaped her lips.

"No…I really wouldn't."

* * *

Jace finished his tenth lap around the training room when Clary walked in. He skidded to a stop and smiled over at her.

"I was starting to think you were gonna sleep all day," Jace teased. Clary smiled halfheartedly back at him. He furrowed his eyebrows. The first thing he noticed was that her beautiful green eyes were bloodshot and the area underneath her eyes was puffy. He straightened and walked over to her. "Why have you been crying?" He asked gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I kind of already worked out this morning," she told him. Jace tilted his head, unsure what that had to do with her crying. "I ran to Adele's apartment." His eyes widened. It was quite the distance between the Institute and Brooklyn on foot. He thought of the way her legs had shook the day before just by standing on her tiptoes to hug Isaac.

"How did you…"

"I was trying to outrun my own demons," Clary said cryptically, dancing around what she really needed to tell him. Her cheeks burned at the thought of explaining just what her demons were. Embarrassment rushed within her; he was going to think she was an idiot.

_ "You two won't get anywhere if you don't talk," _Adele's voice came back to her. She forced her eyes back to his. His golden eyes were filled with worry and love. Love displayed so openly for her. She thought of the last time she had seen him; his eyes had been hard against her. No emotion, like stone. In front of her now, he was vulnerable; his guards were gone. He was allowing her to see. Shouldn't she return the favor? She licked her top lip and bit into it. She hated herself because she was about to snap those guards right back up.

"You…really," Clary admitted. "I was trying to outrun you." His hands fell from her shoulders limply and slapped back against him. She couldn't look at him. She knew the guards would be back up if she did. Her own confession cut her because she knew she had hurt him; the lack of emotion in his eyes would hurt her more. "My last memory of you was…those cold eyes looking at me as if…I were the most hated thing in the universe. You spoke to me like I was nothing more than a bug underneath your shoe. And just as easily as that bug, you crushed me." She heard a sharp gasp. She snapped her eyes back to him. His guards were down. His eyes were burning with self-hate and remorse. Her lower lip wobbled instantly. She wanted to reach out to him and take his hand, but she didn't. She would stop if she touched him. She needed to get this out in the open. A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. _'Rubbing salt in an open wound…' _She looked away. Suddenly, the vicious burst of anger that had sent her running resurged. She stepped away from him with a wide step backwards and threw her arms wide as she spoke the next part with the a vicious laugh,"and…the fucked up part was your words were simply the follow up to the real show." She turned back to him. She pointed a finger at him with a darkly amused smile as if the truth amused her. She supposed in a way it did; it amused her how pathetic she was. "Aline," she let her hand fall back to her side. "The way you kissed her, held her…" She clenched her jaw. "The memory had been in my mind for two years. Torturing me each time I tried to recall a happy memory between us. I remember thinking what if he's moved on to her?" Her hands clenched tightly as the image taunted her. Jace kissing Aline; Jace baring his soul to her the way he had to her just minutes ago; and Jace standing down at the end of an aisle, waiting to marry her. Her blunt nails pricked her skin as she clenched them tighter. It took all of her restraint not to scream the next words at him, "part of me, of course…was always jealous and hurt, but…part of me was happy because it meant you weren't missing me."

"Stop," Jace choked, finally able to find his voice past the vicious emotions running through him. Clary stared up at him with angry eyes. Tears had started pouring down her cheeks. He couldn't stand it anymore. He surged across the small distance and grabbed her biceps. He was unaware of how tightly he was gripping her biceps, but Clary didn't let on. He let go abruptly and touched her tear streaked cheeks, "I never should have spoken to you like that."

"You think?" She snarled, but she stayed in his grip. She couldn't jerk away from his touch. Her already screaming heart was taking comfort in it.

"I know it doesn't excuse what I did," Jace continued as if he hadn't heard her impassioned snarl. "Talking to you like…I hated myself, but it was the only way I could think of to get you to go home. I thought you would be safe in New York. You don't understand how the Clave works. They _fear_ different. They locked up Simon because of that. I was terrified of what they would do _to you_."

"Then why didn't you just tell me that?! You didn't have to lie to me and abandon me!" Clary demanded, still angry. Jace smiled slightly.

"If you recall, I tried. But you didn't listen," Jace said, vaguely amused for a minute. "But I realize now that I was wrong to ask you to stay behind. It was your mother that was in trouble. I would have fought heaven and hell if it were Maryse in such trouble." The anger in Clary's eyes dimmed slightly. "But I wasn't seeing that at the time. I was just so focused on you. And I was disgusted by it." Hurt flashed into Clary's eyes. Jace gripped her cheeks a little harder to keep her from jerking away. She glared at him viciously through hurt eyes. She opened her mouth to snap something at him, but Jace cut her off, "no, hear me out. I thought you were _my sister_." He let go of her cheeks and trailed his hands down to her biceps. "Loving you the way I did…was wrong, but it felt right._ So right_." Clary's heart pounded now. He could see it in her eyes; she was understanding. "And I _hated_ it. **Who in the fuck** loved their sister like that? _Wanted _to be with her like that? I wanted to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep next to you every night. It tore me apart. So, I took Aline's offer." Clary flinched. "But it didn't feel right."

"Sure seemed like it felt right," Clary grumbled. Jace's eyes flashed. The first surge of anger to rush through him in their entire conversation. Really, it had only been a matter of time.

"Well, it didn't," he hissed. He let go of her biceps for a minute and plunged his hand through his hair. He pulled his blonde locks slightly as he fought against the anger in him. Now was not the time for it. He let his hand fall away with a sigh as he returned his eyes to her. She was looking at him, waiting. Challenging him to scream at her. "You kept reappearing in my head. Taunting me," he told her calmly, "with what I couldn't have. Aline became you in my head." A small dark chuckle bubbled from his lips. "Imagine my surprise when you threw the door open."

"I saw it, I don't have to imagine. You looked like you'd seen a ghost," Clary said. True amusement filtered into her tone. Jace didn't smile back. He reached forward and touched her cheek. Clary leaned into his hand. A small smile flickered over his face.

"Then I saw the look on your face," he moved his thumb up to brush the skin underneath her eyes, "betrayal shined in your eyes." He let his hand fall. "And I got angry. Angry at everything. It was like the universe was making me its joke. To fall in love with the one girl I couldn't have and then…having her dangled in front of me like forbidden fruit."

"So, you unleashed it on me," Clary whispered, turning her eyes away from him. "You took your anger and directed all of it at me." It didn't surprise her. At the time, she had wanted nothing more than to hurt him too. Neither of them were innocent here. They both had cut with their words. A dark chuckle escaped her lips. "It doesn't surprise me." Jace flinched. "I wanted to hurt you."

"_When you told me the first time that Valentine was your father, I didn't believe it," she said, "Not just because I didn't want it to be true, but because you weren't anything like him. I've never thought you were anything like him. But you are. You __**are**__."_ (City of Glass, page 125). She had known just how badly those words would cut him and she had used them anyway. Then, not a day after that vicious argument, she had vanished. Without a trace for two years.

"I guess I succeeded, huh?" Clary chuckled again. So dark. So hateful. Jace never wanted to hear it again, but now he could see what she had hidden from all of them. The pain she had suffered through for two years bubbled to the surface of her eyes. His throat clenched tightly. If he could see auras like some warlocks could, he imagined her pain would be black and spilling from her in waves. Instead, it simply started spilling from her eyes in clear rivers. He swallowed and jerked her into his arms. She gave a small gasp. Her body colliding with his nearly stumbled him. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. Her pain ripped through him. Her nails tore the skin through his T-shirt, but he didn't flinch. He simply held her tighter and tried to fight his own tears. He failed when he heard her whispers. "I'm so sorry," was being repeated again and again into his chest.

"I never blamed you," he whispered to her. "Not once." He moved one hand up from her waist and ran his fingers through her hair. The ponytail holder fluttered to the floor. Her long curls burst free. She snuggled deeper into his chest. Her hot tears were turning cold against his chest.

Clary turned her head into his chest and found the mirror that she had watched Jace in just a day before. She could see her tears catching the low light of the training room. For a moment, she became fascinated. She couldn't tell where one tear drop ended and another began. And she could see Jace. His own tears fell from his eyes. His lips were pressed in a hard line. A small whimper escaped her lips at the sight. Her only thought was that he shouldn't be crying. She pushed away from his chest. Reluctantly, he let her go. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. Clary raised her hands to his face and brushed her thumb underneath his eyes. Her heart ached still, but her tears had slowed now that she had new purpose.

"That's so unfair," Clary whispered, "everyone else looks like shit crying. And look at you," she joked. He snorted and smirked. She smiled slightly and wiped the remainder of his tears away.

"Told you. I'm stunningly attractive," he returned as he wiped the tear tracks off of her face in return. His fingertips lingered on her cheeks and swooped down. Her heart jumped as his thumb brushed her bottom lip.

They were far from being okay, but they had made the first step.

"Sorry about your shirt," Clary whispered as she eyed the tear stained spot.

"It's alright. I've got plenty more just like it," he reassured her. Clary's eyes returned to his. The conversation kind of reminded her of the time after their first kiss. The moment before Simon threw open her door.

She felt lighter than she had in two years. Crying really was healing even if she hated doing it. Maybe that was why she found herself rising up on her tiptoes. She pressed her lips to his gently, frightfully. He raised his hands; his hands curled around her biceps and for a moment she thought he was going to push her away. She pulled away a little bit and looked at him. He looked like he was considering it, fighting with himself. Her heart jumped as his fingertips brushed along her biceps, down to her elbows. He left her elbows to her waist. His fingers curled around her for a moment before trailing around to the small of her back. He closed his eyes, pulled her closer, and pressed his lips to hers. Clary let her eyes slip closed and became lost.

* * *

(A/N: This chapter took an unexpected direction. I fully intended for them to do the endurance training thing, but then yeah. Clary got emotional. So, it led to this pain fest. Also, I lied to **heatherfda17**. I had planned to have this kiss happen much later on, but the characters apparently jumped my subconscious and forced my fingers to write it happening now. Clary's trust issues aren't over though.)


	11. No Louder Than a Whisper

**Learning to Live**

**Disclaimer: **The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare.

Chapter 11

_No Louder Than a Whisper_

**(A/N: **I swear a Joss Whedon quote and a demand for an update from **awesome2extreme**. You weren't the only person that demanded an update; you just sort of, I guess, caught me at a right time? –shrugs- Tell me if you can recognize the quote that saved this story from falling into another week without update**.)**

* * *

Jace's hand moved up to curl into her hair. He relished in the feel of her curls around his fingers, the feel of her lips on his, and the way she gasped into his mouth when he slid his thumb underneath the hem of her shirt to brush the skin of her hip. Her hands pressed against his chest. His heart jumped as her hands curled around the fabric of his shirt. He thought that she was going to pull him closer; he was wrong. She shoved. He stumbled back. Tears were in her eyes when she looked back up at him. They stared at one another for a moment. Hurt painted clear in Jace's eyes. Before his guards could snap up, Clary started talking.

"Things fall apart. They fall apart so hard," her voice broke, "And you're not sure if you can ever put them back together again." Jace rolled his lips together and pressed them in a thin line. He wasn't going to let her do this. Put more distance between them. He couldn't stand anymore distance! He was tired of it always being one step forward and two steps back with her. He stepped forward. She could it in his eyes. He had, had the same look that night after the Seelie Court right before he tried to convince her that they could keep a relationship between them. Clary took a step back. "There's just so much to work through. Trust has to be built again," she motioned between them weakly, "on both sides." With every step she took back, he stepped closer. The determined look in his eyes and her own love for him were weakening her. "You have to learn if we're even the same people we were. If you can fit in each other's lives." Her back hit the wall just beside the archway. He came closer. Her heart knocked hard against her ribs. There was so little space between them and it was messing with her resolve. He raised his hand slowly to her cheek. "It's a long and important process…" Her eyes followed his fingers as they pressed her cheek.

"Yeah?" Jace whispered. Her heart skipped a beat. His fingers slipped back down her cheek and roamed over her bottom lip. He could feel her breath hitting his thumb harshly as she breathed through her mouth. The tears in her eyes bothered him, but he knew that she was forcing herself to say those words, forcing herself to push him away. Fighting between her brain and her heart.

"And…." He ran his fingers across her throat in a gentle caress. She stuttered, "a-and…" She licked her lips nervously. His eyes darted down to linger there. His pupil spread over the gold. Desire was plain in his eyes. Her breath started to come out heavier and, just like that, she fell to her heart's screaming. "Ca-can we just skip it?" She asked. Her eyes darted down to his lips as his tongue darted out and ran along his bottom lip. His teeth pulled his slightly wet lip into his mouth. Clary swallowed and glanced back up into his eyes that were still boring into her own. "C-can you just be kissing me again?" His hand fall from her neck to her waist. He pulled her off of the wall and closer to him so that her body is flush against his. She grasped his waist in surprise; her fingers wrap around the waistband of his work out pants, pinching what slack the pants had together in her hands. If it bothered him any, he didn't show it. He simply smirked.

"Was planning on it," he told her. Clary kept her eyes on his golden until their lips touched. For once, she had nothing smart to say in return. She only cared for the feel of his lips on hers and the heat of his kiss. They part only to allow a small gasp of breathe between them before they meet again. She moved her hands from his hips to wrap around his neck.

"So," she started breathlessly; her eyes involuntarily darting down to his lips which were still parted. She swallowed, "you said something about endurance training?" She breathed; the moment the question escaped her lips she realized how it could be taken. A brief, incredulous chuckle escaped his lips. She pulled her body away from his slightly and rubbed the back of her neck. She gave a small, embarrassed chuckle. "I meant, uh…"

"I know," Jace chuckled. He stepped away from her; only leaving his hand on hers. He pulled her gently with him. He was walking backward away from her. She smiled softly at him. He smiled back. "I was thinking about you, not being able to stand very long." Her smile faltered. It was a sensitive subject. "So, I thought that until you get your strength back up, we could use the stamina rune and train you…like running and sparring, but nothing too strenuous." Clary tilted her head. It sounded like a good idea; so, she nodded.

"I like the idea, but not right now. I think I've had my exercise for today," she said.

"Yeah," Jace muttered, trying to think of something they could do together that wouldn't involve anything strenuous or trying to her right now. Suddenly, he got a brilliant idea. "Come on," he said, motioning with a small tilt of his head toward the archway. Clary raised her eyebrows but let him pull her out.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he tugged her down the hallway.

"We," he looked over his shoulder at her, "are going to have a picnic."

"In the greenhouse?" She asked hopefully. He nodded. She couldn't stop the grin that drifted onto her lips; she tightened her hand around his. He squeezed her hand back and smiled. They were finally moving forward.

The greenhouse was just as beautiful as she remembered it. All of the flowers were still in bloom. The star-shaped yellow one that she had first noticed all those years ago seemed to welcome her back. She ran her fingertips gently over the petal. She could feel Jace just behind her, watching her. She let her hand fall from the small flower and turned to him.

"Same place as last time?" She asked. He nodded, unable to speak. The soft lights of the greenhouse seemed to light up her red curls and created a fiery halo around her head. Her green eyes were sparkling with enjoyment and love for him. For a moment, he entered the idea that Magnus had somehow made her part fae. So beautiful and captivating, but deadly. She eased down onto the grass and looked up at him. Her head was tilted to the side, the look in her eyes curious. "You alright?" She asked. He forced those ideas from his head.

"Yeah," he finally spoke as he eased himself down across from her on the grass. He set the bag they had filled with food onto the ground. The contents of this bag were the same as the first time—cheese sandwiches and apples. Both couldn't help but hope the ending of that night went a little better than the first one. Clary nibbled on her sandwich as she fell back into that night.

She had stepped back to avoid the knife on the ground, but she had somehow ended up in Jace's arms. When she had been sleeping, she wore she had been able to feel the pressure of his lips against hers and the taste of apple on her tongue. She looked across the small space and met Jace's golden eyes. He smiled; she returned it without a trace of hesitation.

"I love you," Clary breathed sincerely. Jace blinked in surprise; his hand loosened from around his sandwich for a minute before a blinding smile graced his lips. Her heart skipped as the smile traveled up to his eyes. She suddenly wanted to tell him every single minute of every day. He leaned across the small space, while she was mesmerized by his smile, and kissed her. It was during the kiss that she realized this was the first time she had said it to him without anger. She had never told him she loved him before. She let the small remainder of her sandwich slip from her fingers and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her knees brushed the bag as she sat up on them. He smiled against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist. He was telling her without words that he loved her too, but…she had already known that.

Jace had proved his love for her. Yes, he had made mistakes, but no man was perfect. No relationship was perfect. And the truth of the matter was she treasured what they had too much to let it slip away. To let her trust issues get in the way. She let her hands slide to his shoulders before retracing around his neck. As her fingers brushed each side of his neck, she could feel his pulse hammering against her hands. She knew her heart must be pounding in tandem with his. He pulled away from her before she could wrap her arms around his neck again. He pressed his forehead to hers.

"I love you too, Clarissa Adele Fray," Jace whispered back to her. She smiled happily up at him. Jace was distracted for a moment by the beauty of it. Her green eyes seemed to sparkle just for him. She pecked his lips quickly and smiles coyly before he can kiss her again.

"I know," she says. He chuckles and leans back. A small squeal slips from her lips as he lifts her off of her knees and onto his lap. Her legs are thrown to the left of his hips. The bag-now containing only apples-was forgotten. Her cheeks were red when she looked back up at him. He skims his lips up her neck before places a gentle kiss on her pulse point. She tries to tame her blush as he pulls his head back to look at her. His golden eyes are dancing and instantly she knows her attempts at hiding her embarrassment are useless. He knows good and well how he is making her feel. He smiles, but doesn't tease her much to her surprise.

It's not that he can't think of anything to say, but because he doesn't want to ruin this moment. He had waited so long to simply have her in his arms like this. There was no way he was going to do anything to jeopardize this. He holds her closer and rests his head back against her shoulder. Her red curls tickled his forehead. He breathes in.

Clary smiles slightly and lifts her hand to his head. She runs her fingers through his blonde hair. She can feel that there is nothing wrong with him; the air is too content and peaceful. She allows it to seep into her; slowly, her racing heart calms. She leans against him and tilts her head so that it rests on his. She moves her hand down to the arm that is thrown around her waist. She traces the same runes that Isaac had traced into her hand, unaware that she's tracing ones Jace doesn't know until he asks her quietly what they are. The silence of the green room is broken a few times by his questions and her quiet explanations. They keep their voices low as if a tone louder would shatter this moment.

* * *

(A/N: I know this chapter is short, but I wanted this to be a complete Jace/Clary chapter. Plus, over the weeks I haven't been updating, the Jace/Clary moments were the only parts I was proud of. Seriously, this chapter has been edited and edited. I've been so picky lately. I'll try to crank out another chapter. This story is probably going to wrap up soon. Reason: My stories can only be mushy for so long before I go and ruin it all. It feels just so wrong to do that to Jace and Clary who, frankly, were put through enough by the amazing Cassandra Clare. And then by me. Now, I feel bad for what I did to them. I literally put the characters through hell. Don't they deserve a mushy, happy ending? Not now of course because there are still some questions that need to be answered like what the fuck Isaac is doing, but you know.)


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